


Adrenalize Me

by helena3190



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu Haruno Sakura, Anbu Uchiha Sasuke, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Porn with Feelings, Strong Haruno Sakura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena3190/pseuds/helena3190
Summary: It took years of delicate steps, careful boundaries, and subtle exchanges for Sakura and Sasuke to develop the genuine friendship and camaraderie that was absent from their younger years. He'd fought his demons; she shelved her childish affections. When the lines of lust and intimacy begin to blur between them, Sakura's guarded heart convinces her that their recent developments can be blamed on a flood of adrenaline, nothing more.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 131





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Hey all, I’ve decided to make Ao3 more of my “home-base”/main author page since it’s my own preferred platform, so I’m cross-posting onto here. (:
> 
> Setting/Timeline: Canon-divergent after Chapter 699. Takes place when Team Seven is in their late twenties, a few years after Sasuke returns from his redemption travels. 
> 
> Warnings: Mention of self-harm and suicide. The 24/7 National Suicide Lifeline in the States is 1-800-273-8255. _virtual hugs_
> 
> Additional tags: Apparently, this tag was too long, so I've decided to include it here. _Sakura is in her late 20s and is sexually active pls don't slut shame her k thanks_
> 
> Inspiration: I wrote this over the course of a weekend while craving a more aggressive sasusaku dynamic and listening to In This Moment. The title and lyrics used belong to In This Moment.

* * *

**Adrenalize Me**

.

.

If you asked any of the surrounding medical staff, nearby business owners, or countless civilians who strolled through the village on a temperate Saturday afternoon, each of them would have verified that Konoha's sweetheart, Dr. Haruno, and the infamous last Uchiha were inside the village. After all, Naruto had come hobbling into the hospital, loud-mouthed and proud as he promised in this particular sparring match he'd beat the bastard all the way back to the Uchiha Compound, while Sakura's colleagues explained in excitement that she had been dismissed from clinic duties to help the Hokage with an important diplomatic conference for the weekend. If brought to testify, villagers would have confirmed their presence in Konoha.

They weren't there, though.

.

.

Adrenaline pounded through her system as she raced through the forestry, each step on a branch lifting as soon as it touched down, moving faster than she'd ever moved before. Her masked teammate was a blur beside her, each of them fleeing as though the enemy was in determined pursuit. They only halted their breakneck speed once they reached the predetermined safe zone, each of them navigating their preset traps with ease.

Coming to a complete stop in the midst of the clearing, she stood still but felt no less calm. The endorphins cascaded her system with a sense of excitement that didn't seem appropriate, yet amplified the intense fear (and if she were honest with herself, thrill) of the most recent event in their mission. Though her physical frame was surely exhausted, she didn't feel it yet; there was only the sick, sweet exhilaration of a successful assassination.

Her fellow ANBU came to a stop beside her; especially with the blue-lined feline mask, he seemed impossibly calm. She watched him evaluate their surroundings, waiting for the moment he'd let down his guard.

"Did anyone see you?" He asked, and if she didn't know him so well, she wouldn't have noticed the touch of ragged breathing in his otherwise collected tone.

"No," she answered, attempting to fill her lungs with a deep inhale. "You?"

"No."

When his shoulders lulled to a relaxed position, she settled herself, too. Sakura took off the red-streaked bird ANBU mask and tossed it to the ground. Though the thick protective gear was a necessary precaution, she resented its weight and pulled the soldier's garb off, the standard black tank left beneath. Worse than the gear was the tight braid that pulled her famous, pastel pink hair secure to her scalp, ensuring it was kept out of recognizable view, and she unwound the braid, shaking the hair loose as it fell in waves over her bare shoulders.

"Even masked, I can tell you're staring," Sakura told him, not turning toward him as she removed her arm-guards next.

But Sasuke put business first, as usual. "Were you successful?"

Sakura loosened the wraps from her wrists and tossed them to the ground, too. Leftover nerves tightened in her stomach, but what was done was done. " _I_ did nothing."

Then, sensing his agitation, Sakura answered in earnest. "But the current threat to the Daimyo of the Land of Water will soon be found dead from natural causes; he slept through a heart attack, with no reason to suggest otherwise."

"Hn."

With official confirmation of the kill, Sasuke took off his dark cloak, folded it well enough for a one-armed man, and set it on the ground. Next, he unmasked.

"You're annoyed," Sakura observed, unbuckling the pack slung across her waist and dropping it, too.

Sasuke set his mask and katana neatly atop his cloak, and didn't answer her.

She laughed, clasped her hands together and stretched her arms up to the sky, still too invigorated to practice proper breathing techniques.

"Must be unusual for you," she mused. "Doing nothing, being the useless one."

He tossed her a ruthless glare.

Sakura grinned, as if intoxicated from the cocktail of hormones coursing through her blood, the high of being the most valuable member of their team, their duo.

"Who would've thought," she said, propping one leg up on a nearby fallen tree as she removed the last of her weapons wrapped to her thigh. "The great Uchiha Sasuke, resorted to the likes of an unnecessary bodyguard."

"Unnecessary?" Finally goaded into releasing his frustration, Sasuke turned toward her.

"This is our fifth assassination," she said, one brow lifted. "Have I needed you yet?"

But her words didn't insult him, she noted, as she straightened up. In fact, the ghost of a smirk on his lips told her that for some reason, he seemed to think he found the advantage.

"Aa," Sasuke said calmly, but no sooner than the breath left his lungs, he flash-stepped, swifter than lightning to come before her. Sakura forced herself to remain in place; stepping back would have been admitting his sudden proximity affected her.

"Needed?" Sasuke repeated dismissively, a brief shake of his head. "You've wanted me, though."

Sakura narrowed her eyes. Unimpressed with herself for giving him such an opening, she lifted her chin.

"Maybe," she admitted halfheartedly, but then she lifted a hand, pressed her palm to his chest. "But I can take care of my own _wanting_."

It was second nature at this point, to use her enhanced strength; with a subtle touch that would send him sailing through the clearing, she pushed into him.

Even without his sharingan to alert him, Sasuke anticipated her move. He reached fast enough to cage her wrist. Blocking her assault with a swift side-step, he kept her wrist in his grasp and yanked her forward, stealing her momentum as he pulled her tight to his chest.

Sakura stepped back to gain leverage, but Sasuke stepped with her at once, forcing her back into the nearest tree trunk. She let out a savage breath, utilized her free hand to remove his grip from her captured one, and dug her own head backward so she could look up to meet his gaze, ready to wipe the smug look off his stupidly handsome face.

"Two hands gives me the advantage," she reminded him, gloating even beneath his taller, engulfing frame.

In response, his one good hand wrapped itself around her hip while his other shoulder dug into her, pinning her to the tree.

"Maybe," he taunted.

Familiar with the shape of her now, he slid his thumb atop the dip of her pelvic bone, a firm touch that paused before he reached the center.

Even when she feigned carelessness, she was never convincing enough. This close, Sasuke felt her tense, the anticipation that kept her next breath inside her tightened chest.

Satisfied, he leaned closer, his words quiet and smug as she felt his warm breath over her ear. "Maybe not."

Sakura steeled herself as she turned her head, their cheeks pressed together, his lips tortuously close to her own.

"I'll always be stronger," she reminded him, a promise.

"Hn." If he was amused or annoyed, it was impossible to tell. "I'll always be faster."

They stared at each other, a checkmate, a mutually assured destruction. Hoping he could not read the thoughts in her mind, Sakura went to snatch his wrist with enough strength that would snap bone; but he withdrew his hand and frame, then swept one foot strong enough to hook her ankle and toss her to the ground. Him, faster —

Before she hit the dirt, Sakura turned, took hold of his good arm, and slammed him into the ground to brace her own impact.

— but her, stronger.

Sakura rolled, now her turn to pin him, her thighs wrapped so tight around his waist if she closed them any further, she could snap him in half. Too late, his sharingan furiously whirled to life.

"Can you hear that?" Sakura asked seriously, leaning down, careful to look only at the center of his forehead. "Your bones are creaking."

"You wouldn't."

"I have enough strength and stamina to carry your broken body home," she countered.

Furthering her threat, she pushed her hips into him. Sasuke inhaled; in the back of his mind, he remembered a night several months prior, when he'd been so drunk that the next day it was Sakura who had to remind him what he'd said when his tongue was loose from liquor. He regretted then that he'd admitted the first time he'd seen her excessive strength, and more than once thereafter, it turned him on; and now, with her hips aligned to his waist, he regretted it again.

He was hard enough against her that he _knew_ she could feel him, but she acted aloof, uncaring; even when he knew his frustration was what she wanted to see, he couldn't withhold it.

"Get off me."

She leaned closer, her forehead pressed forcefully against him; he knew the amethyst gem would leave an imprint on his skin.

"If that's what you want," she mused quietly, her hips still aligned as she loosened her grip enough to feel his hard-on closer between her inner thighs, the layers of their clothes not enough to separate them.

Too much to separate them.

Sasuke used the slight reduction in her strength to wrap his arm around her and roughly rolled them, once more pinning her, satisfied at the halo of her perfect, pastel hair merged with clumps of dirt and debris.

She was strong enough to toss him off, if she wanted to; but he knew she wouldn't, and he bent toward her neck, found the most vulnerable nook of skin, and claimed it. His tongue was bruising, and Sakura's grip on his arms tightened painfully, leaving her own mark of ink-purple fingerprints.

" _You_ get off," she countered, but her neck was willingly bared to him.

Sasuke shifted to face her, so close when he spoke that their lips touched. "If that's what you want."

Sakura closed her eyes, attempted to concentrate; but his lips still hovered atop hers, firm and tempting, and worse, he was _so_ hard between her; it felt as if she pulsed, needing him closer.

Giving in, she loosened her vice grip on both of his arms and instead traced the tips of her fingers over the taut muscles in his biceps.

"Fuck you," she whispered, a disgruntled admission of defeat, the start of a kiss.

"Hn." Sasuke's smirk vanished as soon as it appeared; he took her bottom lip, sucked on it hard, the way that made her pull her hips upward and into him.

Their patience and restraint from the banter dissolved immediately; clothing was tugged and torn off, their lips starved for one another, unwilling to separate even as they struggled in removing the last of undergarments. Sasuke's one hand left its cradled hold of her breast to remove the last barrier between them; thin, night-black cotton on her slim waist. As his fingers closed around the fabric and started to tug, Sakura simpered.

Then she took a deep breath, channeled her chakra, and purged. Instantaneously, she was back to several moments ago, fully clothed with her back against the tree trunk. Sasuke wasn't before her, though; he stood ten yards off, as regal and arrogant as only Uchiha Sasuke could be after _that._

Sakura pushed off the tree, the grace of a kunoichi as she walked over to him.

"Were you going to fuck me through genjutsu?"

He didn't answer, shrugged with a nondescript roll of his shoulders, and said instead, "You've gotten better."

"You haven't."

Sasuke was unconcerned. "You're one of only ones who can see through it."

"And break through it," she reminded him.

"Hn." It impressed him, even if he wasn't willing to tell her.

Genjutsu or not, she was still heated, still pulsing with the need of him to fill her; and she knew he had to be just as affected. As the Creator of the fantasy, he'd been just as involved. She stood in front of him, close enough she had to tilt her chin upward to see his mismatched midnight-and-lavender eyes.

"What is it?" Sakura asked, almost genuine in her curiosity. "Afraid you won't be able to get me off in real life?"

That did it. Even faster than before, Sasuke took her again, slamming her into the next tree; at the sound of her laughter, he pinned her tighter.

Sakura's jade orbs were sharp as she faced him, unafraid of the sharingan, confident he wouldn't use it. Real this time, his lips touched onto hers, but again, he didn't kiss her. Instead, his lips were the presence of a ghost against her skin as he found the same spot on her neck. This time, he was gentle first, deliberate with his tongue in between the trail of kisses that led to the soft spot beneath her ear. He pushed his right knee into her left thigh and stretched her legs open for him.

"I don't remember that being a problem last time," he whispered into her ear, still arrogant.

"Hmm," Sakura murmured, reaching for the waistline of his pants. "We'll see."

Sasuke sucked hard on her earlobe, knew from last time how it would make her moan, knew from the times before every touch that made her quiver under his hold. With no aid from visual prowess, he took her on the dirt ground and fucked her not to ease the tension hard in his groin, but to ensure she'd come.

When she did, her teasing and taunting finally replaced with softened features, glazed orbs, and parted lips gasping from existential pleasure, he knew he'd won.

Even without enhancement from her precise chakra control, she was strong, capable; she pressed into his chest, her legs wrapped taut around him, and pulled her hips in and out from him. He tried, like the other times, to withhold the primal groan that erupted; but she was so _tight_. As if her orgasm was a debt she now owed, Sakura rode him hard, determined to see his apathetic disposition slip and falter completely.

" _Hnn._ " Almost angered, Sasuke groaned with the last of his resolve; he came inside of her, his shoulders shuddering at the end, her movements slow and sweet to finish him.

Blissful, Sakura wondered if there was anything so beautiful as seeing him open up, and fall apart.

.

.

Like the tiles on the board offended him, Kakashi looked over them with mild disdain.

"Careful," she murmured. "Even with the mask, it's best to maintain a poker face until the end."

"Hmm." He leaned back against the edge of the sofa and rubbed his jaw. "Not sure it matters, and you know it."

She tried not to grin, but failed. "I had you two moves ago. Did you really only notice now?"

Kakashi sighed; he didn't answer, but moved his next piece in what he knew would lead to his downfall.

Sakura was swift in her predetermined countermove, the grin still present, and Kakashi grunted. His loss was all but set into stone.

"Alright," he said. "You win."

"Not yet," she countered. "Not technically."

He lifted a brow, though he was not actually surprised at her stubborn attitude.

"Fine," Sakura said, accepting his forfeit, leaning back, too.

In the comfort of her home, she wore a black thin-strapped crop top and matching oversized sweatpants rolled at her hips to keep them secure, her hair pinned up messily, loose strands as stubborn as their owner. She poured herself more sake from the half-emptied bottle they kept beside the board, then gestured for his glass. Kakashi obliged; when she returned his glass, he finished the sake in one gulp, then handed his glass back to her.

Sakura didn't judge as she poured another glass for him. "First, you lose miserably, and now, you're accepting sake like water."

When Kakashi offered no response, she asked carefully, "You want to talk about it?"

"No," he told her easily, and cleared the tiles on the board.

"Alright," Sakura said, not offended. "Another game?"

He nodded and together they reset the board. Before he could make his first move though, he relaxed his shoulders.

"Mika and I decided it would be best if we saw other people."

Sakura looked up in surprise; not that he finally told her what was on his mind, usually he eventually did, but in the implication that his recent relationship was already over.

"Why?"

"I suppose," Kakashi answered, moving his first tile, "because she already started to."

Sakura grimaced. "Are you kidding me? Who would have the audacity to cheat on the Hokage?"

He smiled, though. "Apparently, I'm emotionally unavailable."

Sakura frowned further. "That's ridiculous."

Kakashi gestured for her to make her move, and reluctantly, Sakura paid attention to the board instead of their conversation. As soon as she selected her move, she looked back up to him.

"I'm sorry, but I've seen my fair share of emotionally unavailable idiots, and you're not one of them."

Kakashi glanced at her, had a feeling he could think of one such idiot, but shrugged. "How I am with women I hardly know is not the same as how I am with you and our team."

Her eyes widened at the admission, but she wasn't as surprised once she thought it over. "Well, it must be a difficult position for you to be in, needing to maintain your political image while attempting to be yourself."

"Maybe it's not possible," Kakashi said, and though he sounded like he didn't care, she knew better than to believe it.

"Still," Sakura said softly, "that doesn't make it acceptable to cheat."

Kakashi made his next move after thoughtful deliberation. "I'll admit, I didn't see it coming."

That upset Sakura more, and she lifted the sake bottle to offer him full control, but he shook his head with mild laughter.

"To be honest, I'm relieved," he said, watching Sakura's next move. "I don't mind being alone. I think I hated being with someone when it was better to be alone."

Sakura understood that all too well. "Well, then I guess it's good that it's over."

He hummed in agreement and considered his next move. Sakura rested against the couch, cradled her sake between her crossed legs, and considered her own circumstances. As usual, Kakashi noticed the shift in her mood.

"Didn't you say you had to be somewhere at eight?" He asked, glancing at the clock on her wall that ticked 6:55 pm.

She tucked a loose strand back behind her ear. "Yeah, but I'm not sure if I'll go."

"What is it?"

"A date," she said, a soft smile. "Handsome enough, and sweet, but a civilian. It's probably not the best idea."

Civilians in the past had proven to be too fragile, too weak, in more ways than one.

Kakashi was surprised. "I thought you and Sas-"

He stopped himself, but it was too late. Sakura blinked, as surprised as he'd been, and both of them were quiet for a moment.

"Well," Sakura said, a hint of amusement. "I didn't think Sasuke was one to kiss-and-tell."

Kakashi shook his head. "He's not."

Sakura knew she hadn't told a soul, not even Ino, who she had become almost inseparable with after the last war. If Kakashi knew, it had to have been through Sasuke.

Sensing her question, Kakashi explained. "Sometimes I think Naruto really does have the ability to read into his mind. I'm not sure what was said that prompted it, but over dinner last week, Naruto called him out on it. For all his faults, Sasuke won't lie to him."

Sakura's lips turned up at the thought of it. It _was_ true, she knew. Naruto was the only one who could cut through Sasuke's aloof and cold veneer.

"We're not dating," Sakura told Kakashi, back to his original question. "We've just… made a bad habit of _celebrating_ after ANBU missions."

"Celebrating." Kakashi wasn't sure whether to be amused or repulsed.

"Don't give me that look," she said, pouring another glass of sake. "You're the one who paired us together and sent us, alone, on covert S-rank missions."

"Well I wasn't attempting to play matchmaker," he chided. "I'm the Hokage, and you are two of the strongest, most trustworthy shinobi in my arsenal."

She shrugged, then took a sip of sake, returning her gaze to the board. "It's not a match, anyway."

"It's not?"

Sakura looked at him for a moment. "Oh come on, Kakashi. If he wanted to be 'matched', he wouldn't be fucking me outside after missions, and then barely speaking with me here, at home."

It didn't matter if he wore a mask; she could see that he grimaced at her blunt words.

"Don't you dare tell me to watch my tongue, or my temper," she added. "It's not my fault I was put on a team that destroyed any chance I ever had in becoming a 'proper' young lady."

"I would never," Kakashi chuckled, but as adept at Naruto was at reading Sasuke, he knew Sakura was skilled in reading him. The concern in his stone-gray eyes was apparent even through laughter.

"It's fine, Kakashi," she promised, brushing back more of her loose hair. "We'll just get it out of our system, and move on."

He wasn't sure it was possible for her to get Sasuke 'out of her system', but she was an adult now, and no longer one of his students. She didn't need his input unless she asked for it.

"Well don't miss your date on my account," he told her, placing his tile. "I don't need the pity hang-out."

"It's not a pity hang-out," Sakura scolded, evaluating the board. "I'm just having second-thoughts. The last time I dated a civilian, I accidentally broke two of his ribs. "

This time, Kakashi laughed sincerely, and Sakura looked up, smiling too. "Besides, I'm sure I'll prefer your company."

"Hmm."

Sakura bit her lip as she studied the board for several moments. He said nothing aloud, but later, when the clock chimed at eight during the midst of their second game, he assumed it was not the potential for broken bones that kept her from attending the date, but the sense of being alone in the wrong person's company.

.

.

After an exhausting week of 12-15 hour days in the hospital and children's clinic, Sakura was grateful to leave late on a Friday evening with two days of nothingness and rest planned ahead. As tired as she felt though, her mind spun, still busied from countless work-related thoughts and to do lists. When she passed the Hokage Tower on her walk home, she decided to stop in, needing to decompress.

As she suspected, Kakashi was still in the office working even though almost all his staff had been dismissed. She knocked light on the door one time then let herself in, knowing he would have heard, smelled, and sensed her chakra signature before she even got to his floor.

It wasn't abnormal for her to stop by after long days at work and he lazily lifted his eyes from a letter to acknowledge her presence before he continued to read. Sakura took the seat in front of his desk and waited patiently, helping herself to the copy of the newest Icha Icha edition she noticed was pushed to the edge of the stacks.

When Kakashi finished, he looked over to her, amused at the sight of her laissez-faire attitude with porn in hand. Sensing his gaze, she looked up, unimpressed.

"You know," she started, her pastel hair shifting over her shoulders when she leaned forward. "This is the reason people say porn gives men unrealistic expectations."

"I'm aware half of those are not just unrealistic, but impossible," Kakashi told her, his smile hidden beneath the mask.

"Anatomically impossible," Sakura added. "I'm saying that as a kunoichi _and_ as a doctor."

"You're missing the point," Kakashi admonished, leaning back into his chair.

"Hmm." Sakura loosened her grip on the book, reviewed the pages another time. "What's that?"

"The few of those that are attainable can only be done with utmost trust, communication, and intimacy," he told her, as if her instructor again. "The ones that are not - well, they encourage creativity and exploration."

"Alright then," Sakura murmured as she closed the book. "That's the most romantic notion I've ever heard about porn."

"Keep it," he told her. "I've finished it."

She blinked, looked at him as though she were bored, but he wordlessly noted she did not toss the book back onto his desk.

"It's good that you stopped by," he said, straightening up. "I need to speak with you about an upcoming assignment."

Sakura felt her stomach turn. Due to the nature of her busy responsibilities at the hospital and clinic, there were no ordinary missions she was assigned to; only the ones with ANBU for assassination ploys that required the utmost covert response and her subtle skills from medical ninjutsu.

"Alright," she said, calmer than she felt.

"There's a situation that Gaara and I would appreciate your expertise on," he told her. "It would require leaving this Saturday evening."

"When would I be back?"

"Tuesday night," he told her, "If all goes well."

"Have you talked to Shizune about covering in the hospital?"

He nodded.

"And Sasuke?"

That's where he paused. "That's what I wanted to speak to you about."

Sakura remained still. "Go on."

"I can assign Kurenai to provide you cover, if you'd prefer."

She relaxed in her chair, but crossed her arms. "Why would I prefer that?"

He inwardly groaned; in the same manner she would not accept any of Naruto or Sai's bullshit, she was unwilling to take any of his either apparently, Hokage status or not.

"I only wanted to be certain there was nothing that would jeopardize your safety or success."

Her jade eyes were piercing as she evaluated whether or not his words were spoken as the Hokage, a member of their team, or a friend. Deciding he was sincere, she loosened her arms.

"I'm sure Kurenai would be capable, but I'd feel more confident working alongside Sasuke," she told him, sounding like an ANBU operative, not a lover. "We've already established formations, we have an impeccable record, and to be honest, I trust him with my life. With _these_ assignments, I need to have that level of trust to stay focused once I'm under cover."

"Alright," Kakashi agreed with ease, grateful for her sound logic and rationale as a shinobi in his command. "I'll send word to him. Report here tomorrow at dusk."

Sakura nodded, a soldier, and then stood up. She offered him the book back, but he didn't take it. One brow lifted, he prompted, "Sure you don't want it? No judgement here."

She was sure. "It's been my experience that I can take care of myself better than most men."

Kakashi took the book, and despite himself, admired her bold words on the subject. With her experience as a doctor, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Even Sasuke?" He couldn't help but ask, emboldened at her own transparency on the subject.

Sakura thought about it. "He might be better, but I don't think creativity and communication are on the table."

Kakashi withheld a laugh, but she saw it in the crinkled corners of his stone-gray eyes, and she smiled, too.

"See you tomorrow, Kakashi."

"Good night, Sakura."

.

.

It was another successful assignment, though this time border patrol spotted them, an inevitable scuffle ensued, and the two ANBU fled for their designated safe space, droplets of blood falling in their wake. The cat-masked ANBU led them to a river he'd kept in mind prior to the assassination, and his comrade dutifully followed, glad to wash off their scent, sweat, blood and whatever else may lead to being tracked. After another hour of racing through The Land of Earth, the two of them settled in their predetermined space, this time a cavern that overlooked a cliff's edge.

Before he could ask, Sakura removed her mask and assured him. "Looks like we're six for six."

"Hn."

Uncomfortable and soaked, Sakura began to discard her weaponry and wet clothes. Sasuke went to the cavern, found the fire pit he'd already prepared, and used a family jutsu to light a fire. He took off his own mask, cloak, and shirt, positioning them over boulders to dry, and then took a seat before the fire. Sakura hung her clothes, too, and remaining in her black sports bra and matching panties, she joined him across the fire.

Under the dancing of flames and the shadows it cast, Sasuke studied the spiral tattoo on the outside of her right thigh that signified her as ANBU. Her membership in the Black Ops was strictly off-the-books; less than ten shinobi knew her status, far fewer knew the nature of the missions she participated in, and every time Sasuke escorted her, Kakashi and Naruto went through great lengths to ensure her departure went unnoticed or with a sufficient alibi.

She couldn't get the ANBU tattoo on her arm, where it would be seen loud and proud, and she wasn't supposed to get one at all. But she insisted after the success of their first mission, and Sasuke's initial resistance was bent from her persuasive powers. There were no longer many things Sakura demanded from him; when she did, he found himself oddly susceptible to her whims.

That was how it happened; her, half-naked across his lap, her thin, black silk barely covering the curve of her ass, and long, lean legs stretched out. He was no artist, but he was careful and precise, holding her thigh down with his forearm as he inked the spiral as centered and close to the hipbone as it'd fit. When he finished, he should have stopped touching her; when he didn't stop touching her, she should have stood up.

But that wasn't what happened. He remembered the first time with the most clarity, as he often tossed and turned over the memory, wondering what, how, why, and why then. After it happened once, the second time was justified; what was the difference now? Then, the third time, as if it were inevitable; the fourth, and the most recent, as if it were a given.

"You did good, eh?" Sakura said, noticing what held his attention. "Even Sai would be impressed."

Sasuke looked up at her. "How do you hide it from those idiots you fool around with?"

Idiots being the civilians. Sasuke held particular disdain for her liking in those men, whom he knew were far too weak for her.

"Genjutsu," she said with a careless shrug.

"And the shinobi?" He didn't necessarily care for them much more.

"Genjutsu," she repeated, as if it were obvious. "You think shinobi men are focused on their surroundings once they're- what, does my talking about it bother you? You brought it up."

Sasuke didn't realize he narrowed his gaze until she noticed and called him out for it. Sasuke turned, said nothing else, and relaxed on the cavern's walls behind him. Sakura held her palms to the fire, grateful for the warmth as she continued to dry from the cold, wet air, and said nothing else.

"Naruto is about to have a child," Sasuke said, out of the blue.

"I'm aware," Sakura said slowly, a gentle laugh. "What's your point?"

"Why haven't you married?" This time, he turned back to her, surprisingly serious.

Sakura deflected him though. "Why haven't you?"

"I'm not the one half the village's men would kill for."

Sakura laughed. "You are the one who _more_ than half the village's women would kill to marry."

"Hn."

Knowing Sasuke wouldn't ask twice, and thoughtful about what prompted him to ask, she became serious, too.

"You might think that, but it's not true," Sakura told him. "The civilians can't relate to me, and most men in the shinobi force are far too intimidated by me, or rather, my relation to you, Naruto, and Kakashi."

He didn't say so, but she could see that he was confused.

"The current Hokage, host of the nine-tailed fox, and the last remaining Uchiha, the saviors of the world, heroes of the war, the strongest men of Konoha? I suppose most men know they can't compare. The few that try tend to be arrogant pricks."

"Are those the ones you sleep with?" It wasn't accusatory by tone, but still, Sakura sent him a seething glare.

"On occasion, I sleep with the ones I _think_ are kind."

Sasuke rearranged firewood and said nothing else, but Sakura probed next. "Which ones do you sleep with? Please don't tell me the whiny, sobbing ones."

Sasuke didn't answer for so long she thought he wouldn't at all. It was when she started to stand up, to go for their bags and take out their sleeping gear, that he did.

"The ones who don't know who I am."

Sakura blinked, so startled she sat again. She was quiet for a moment as she tried to find the courage for the right words. Then, a gentle statement. "But I know who you are."

He looked at her steadily, and she wished then she had whatever telepathic powers Naruto seemed to, because it felt like he was trying to make a point but she couldn't say with certainty on what. Knowing that he would not offer it up willingly, she didn't attempt to ask for clarification.

After another quiet moment, Sakura went to their gear and started to unpack. When she held the sleeping mats in hand, she looked over to him.

"Two," she asked, as if she cared little how he responded, "Or one?"

Sasuke only paused long enough for her to count three heartbeats. "One."

.

.

Sakura was surprised not only that she woke first, but also that when she did, Sasuke's arm was still wrapped around her. She remained still, kept her breathing as calm and controlled as when she slept. He sounded far more peaceful than what was familiar, his breaths even and deep, the natural weight of his arm atop her. The warmth from the fire had died, but his entire frame was pressed so close to her, it was no wonder she hadn't woken because of a chill.

Though she'd been careful to remain still, it mattered none; Sasuke was far too alert and skilled as a shinobi to be able to sleep through even the slightest change in environment. Sakura couldn't see him, but she felt him wake; the sudden stillness of his breathing, tightening of his chest, loosened weight on his arm over her abdomen, and then, pressed to the top of her left thigh, a hard-on.

"Good morning," she murmured, not moving an inch, not bothering to look for him.

He'd probably be up and ready to leave within half a moment.

Instead though, she was surprised again when he tilted his head downward and rested his chin on the bare skin of her shoulder; each time he breathed, the air tickled the skin of her neck.

Sakura assumed the hard member behind her was an ordinary morning occurrence, not an indicator of his interest, but she relaxed into him regardless, purposeful when she aligned her bottom so that he fit snug between her cheeks. On impulse or on purpose, he throbbed further into her. She withheld a smile.

Sasuke lifted his head, his nose bumped into her and ran up her jaw, his lips skimming over her cheek. As gentle as her quiet murmur from the moment before, he kissed her temple.

It felt then like her entire system effectively shut down. Their physical interactions after missions had been just that - physical, and only after the mission. Each time, they were heated, frenzied, the excuse of adrenaline and dopamine, a side effect of life-threatening danger and thrill of success.

This was a kiss in the calm, quietness of the morning after, and it was soft. If it was anyone else besides Uchiha Sasuke, she would've described it as sweet.

She knew that he knew her well enough to identify that it startled her, but he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, his hand tossed across her abdomen traveled south. Her core tightened, an electric jolt sent through her navel, and Sasuke's chin rested on her shoulder again.

He slid his thumb assuredly to the edge of her silken fabric, sliding it back and forth patiently, and Sakura tensed from anticipation. Sasuke planned to tease, though, she discerned soon enough; his other fingers slid over the silk between her outer lips, the gentlest touch to her center, not enough of him. When she loosened her thighs, welcoming him, he still remained patient, the tips of his fingers caressing the sensitive space where her legs met her center, and then, still above fabric, his thumb circling her clit.

"Damn it, Sasuke," she sighed, pulling herself back into him.

"Hm," he greeted her exposed neck with kissing more familiar; firm, bruising, the power of his tongue another tease in itself.

She writhed against him, in such need of _him_ it was almost painful; she was unable to help the release of a weakened moan.

"What do you want?" He asked her, quiet and serious.

"You," she answered promptly, and reached behind her, an attempt to take hold of him, to tease how he teased her. But he pressed further into her, even harder than before, unreachable.

"What," he repeated, an octave lower, "do you want?"

Sakura's breath caught in her throat. Attempting for air, she slid her own hand to the edge of fabric at her waistline.

"I want you to take these off."

He obliged, taking hold of one side, then the other, to pull them down to her knees.

"And?" His lips tugged her earlobe, and he watched her quiver, an odd satisfaction in her trembling.

"I … I want you to touch me."

He touched her how he did earlier, teasing only, his fingers mapping the inside of her thighs.

"No," Sakura murmured, desperate more than confident, "I want your fingers, I want you, inside of me."

Finally, he listened, and Sakura inhaled deeply, immediately overwhelmed at the overdue touch. His fingers were long, probing, curling and exploring within her.

A strained whisper, "Fuck, I'm wet."

He wondered if she meant to say it aloud, but it bothered him none; the opposite, it emboldened him, and proving her words, he swept his wet fingers from the most north of her lips, to the south, sliding between her ass.

"Sas-Sasuke-kun," she moaned, arm reaching behind her again, wanting more of him.

"What?" Now, he hovered further over her, and his lips graced the edge of hers. _What do you want?_

At the corner of her mind, in the last of what rationale remained, Sakura remembered herself admitting communication was probably off the table. Here he was though; asking her what she wanted, and giving it to her.

"Kiss me," she demanded, turning her head to meet his lips. She was rewarded with an instant response; his kiss was the fast, furious thrill of a chidori and it sent electricity through her veins. His tongue sweeping inside of her mouth, discovering this landscape too, and she wrapped her tongue to his, sucking hard.

Finger-fucking her so _precisely_ in the rhythm he'd learned favored her, she struggled not to arch out of his grasp, could barely remain still enough to kiss him. Sasuke pulled back, watched her quiver, swollen lips parted in too much pleasure; he felt the sharingan whirl to life, an impulsive need to see every single detail of the moment, of her.

"What do you want?" Sakura asked him, a hint of guilt from being the only current recipient.

He didn't answer, fit a third finger into her, watched her shoulders roll back as she simpered.

As soon as she found her breath, Sakura dug herself into him, demanding to be answered. "What do you want?"

She never asked for much these days. Even if he didn't want to answer her aloud, he had to.

"I want to taste you," a quiet confession, curling his fingers inside of her, as if beckoning her or him, she wasn't sure.

Too overwhelmed to even consider something that would send her sailing over the cliff's edge, she shook her head against his chest.

Sasuke's fingers came to a slow pace within her, and then, a gradual exit. When her eyes flashed in protest of their departure, he asked again. "What do you want?"

She felt herself pulsing, the immediate rage of missing him, needing him. Shyness she rarely felt with anyone, barely felt even with him anymore, started to surge in her gut; but she remembered the light kiss to her temple when he woke, and heard his quiet, even words as they replayed over and over in her mind. _I want to taste you._

"I want you to taste me, too," she admitted quietly, biting down on her own lip.

For the first time, he lifted his taut frame from behind her, used his one hand to roll her hips and position her flat on her back. As if she had none of her strength, she let Sasuke position her, a thrill far more dangerous than even their most recent mission. He lifted her one thigh, the one with the spiral ANBU tattoo, the one that could be faulted for their current affair, and dropped beneath her.

It wasn't something Sakura imagined even in her wildest dreams. Her leg rested on the base of his neck, Sasuke low beneath her waist, and her naked form, spread open, so vulnerable.

Still looking at her, he kissed the inside of her knee, a gentle touch that relaxed tension from her thighs she hadn't known was present.

Then he obliged both their requests; his tongue was powerful, an even stroke one time on the outer left lip, and then another complimentary stroke on the right.

 _Kami,_ Sakura screamed internally, delighted and maddened from his persistent patience.

When she felt him open his mouth against her outer lips, she thought she might swear, already predicting the content of his syllables.

"Sakura," he said, low and husky, and she wanted to murder him, to fuck him, to kiss him. "What do you want?"

"Please, Sasuke," she moaned. " _Taste me_."

He did, heaven crashing down to earth, his tongue strong and confident, caressing the edges of her, exploring the depths of her. Sakura clutched the fabric of their sleeping mat, held it so tight her knuckles whitened, and she fell far, far off the cliff's edge.

.

.

.

It felt different to her after that, but she knew it shouldn't.

When they'd fucked after missions she chalked it up as a physical need met, the inevitable curiosity between lifelong friends. But no matter if she was exercising, preparing to perform a surgery, typing up case notes, or cooking dinner, she thought of their last time together. After he'd brought her to a climax so startlingly powerful she lay there soaking in it, he didn't wait for her to recover, he didn't need her to be a performer. He wanted her like that, drunk and drowning from him, and when he came atop her, it was hard to call it fucking.

They kissed slowly, not rushing or bruising, for the first time enjoying each kiss, enjoying each other. When he thrust into her, pulled out almost too far and made her gasp as he came in again, they looked at each other, eyes unblinking, unwilling to separate the connection for even a second. Though he'd been skilled before, now he was earnest, as if finding more from inside himself to give to her. Overwhelmed from the last orgasm's aftershock, soaring through another one, she rocked with him, both lost and found beneath him. When he came, he stayed inside of her after, resting on her breasts, letting her run her fingers through the ink-black strands of hair.

If it were anyone besides Uchiha Sasuke, she would have said they'd made love, not fucked. But that couldn't be possible, Sakura told herself, each and every time she remembered it.

.

.

* * *

_Come a little bit closer_

_Before we begin, lemme tell you how I want it_  
_And exactly what I need_  
_I'm here for one [drug], I'm only here for one thing_  
_So come on and tell me_  
_Can you fly like you're free?_  
_Cause I need to feel, yeah, I need to say_

_I must confess_  
_I'm addicted to this_  
_Shove your kiss straight through my chest_  
_I can't deny, I'd die without this_  
_Make me feel like a God…_

_Adrenalize me._


	2. II.

* * *

**Adrenalize Me**

.

.

An intoxicated Team Seven was a vortex of chaos brought to life, one every restaurant owner in Konoha dreaded. Naruto's vocal cords lost their ability to operate in lower decibels; Sakura's super-strength often slipped and shattered dishware, or worse, furniture; Sai insisted he could sing better than he could paint, unaware that the more alcohol he consumed, the more tone-deaf he became; Sasuke devoted himself to pyrokinesis, frightening off any disgruntled patrons or curious customers that came too close for his personal liking.

Worse was Hatake Kakashi, who should have shown some _propriety_ as the Hokage and insisted that Leaf shinobi behave appropriately in a civilian establishment. Instead, he relaxed in the booth with arms crossed behind his head, swooning with pride, like the adult children before him were a pack of demonic wolves in a litter he himself produced.

When it was nearing midnight and the owner reminded them two times already that the establishment was closing soon (it closed at ten), Sakura stood up.

"Alright gentlemen," she sighed, rosy-cheeked with a slight stumble in her gait. "Until next time. Don't get into too much trouble, eh?"

"Never," Naruto grinned with a cheer, then searched for someone to drink with, found an eager Sai. Their glasses came together with a messy _clink,_ sake spilling onto their hands.

Sakura shook her head with false disappointment. If it was humanly possible, the two of them would drink themselves into oblivion.

Sasuke put his glass of sake down and looked over to her. "I'll walk you home."

"No, its fine," she assured him, a dismissive wave, already turning away from the table. "I told Tenten I might stop by if it wasn't too late."

Naruto buried his mouth into one hand and withheld a snicker. Sasuke flashed him an impressively sober glare.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she called out as she approached the door.

"Doesn't leave us much," Naruto hollered to her retreating back.

Without turning, Sakura lifted her arm and poised one choice finger in his direction, then left.

Once the doors swung to a close, Naruto pointedly returned his gaze to the Uchiha and burst out laughing. Even Sai was amused, cheeks tinged pink with both brows lifted.

"You were attempting a romantic overture, weren't you?" Sai asked.

Sasuke said nothing, offering no hints one way or the other.

Kakashi put a fatherly hand on Sasuke's shoulder, a placid smile hidden beneath his mask. "You're going to have to do better than that, Sasuke."

Naruto laughed even harder, bellowing over from his drunken excess, until a sudden combustion of flames sprung from the seat beside him. The flames leapt and scorched his ass, the bottom of his pants instantly catching on fire. Naruto jumped clear from the table, a colorful choice of swear words left in his wake as he tried to extinguish the flames by rubbing his backside on the nearby wall. At the sight of this, even Kakashi lost control, both him and Sai erupting with laughter.

Satisfied, Sasuke took his glass of sake and finished it.

.

.

The sun would set soon. After her grumbling stomach and the chorus of farewells from other staff, it was the third reminder that she should head home. Sakura remained at her desk though, one finger placed on the text of newly acquired data, her other hand busied as she penned her streamline of consciousness for later analysis.

A shadow was cast over her notes. Sakura abruptly looked up, already frowning from the interruption, but then she paled. Perched on her window was a white-and-turquoise rabbit masked ANBU.

"Kakashi?" Her fear was palpable as she dropped her pen. ANBU didn't pull her from hospital duties unless it was dire.

Assuming there was no time to wait for a response, Sakura grabbed her nearby duffel bag of prepacked medical supplies, meant for emergencies like this one.

"No," the ANBU operative said as Sakura joined her at the window. "Incoming team at the border."

She followed the ANBU's breakneck speed to the outskirts of the village, reminding herself that if it came to it, protocols were supposed to dictate who she treated first. Those with the most critical injuries, and those with the highest likelihood of surviving; not those she knew, not the one in a blue-and-white feline mask who might be with them.

.

.

" _Stop_."

Before her feet even touched the ground, Sakura's tempered command announced her arrival, the toss of her medical bag landing at the feet of the two injured ANBU. In the rays of the sunset her pastel hair was shaded in violent warm hues, her red top and the blood of the squad providing the only vibrant sources of color amidst the thick woods.

"He's allergic to that," Sakura explained, her knees sliding to the dirt as she knelt before them.

Unconscious beneath his mask, the limp shinobi was held weakly by the wounded operative about to administer a standard emergency combo-shot that would reduce pain and stimulate the heart. Sakura plucked the syringe from the ANBU's gloved hand and tossed it to the ground.

The med-nin on their team would have known the team's allergies and Sakura took a quick sweep of her surroundings to look for them. Though masks were meant to protect their identity, as the lead medic for ANBU and Konoha's shinobi, she was one of the few who were privy to the classified information. Knowing blood types, allergies, and medical history on the fly was a necessary requirement.

Ro was allergic to synthetic epinephrine, latex, and shellfish, Sakura remembered as she studied the deep wound slashed into his chest. Ina, who attempted field medicine to heal him, was bleeding from her abdomen. A quick analysis of her lethargic disposition suggested Ina had been stubbornly paying attention to Ro, distracted from realizing the severity of her own wound.

Sasuke's elbow protruded at an angle that told her he'd broken his arm, but he managed to hold an injured comrade, too. It was Seiko, bleeding from the neck, both him and Sasuke pressing red-stained gauze to the wound. The med-nin, Anika, was rested at Sasuke's feet, half of her stomach ripped out. Mira, who collected Sakura from the hospital, limped from the left leg but was stable as she went to Anika's side.

Sakura pressed her healing chakra to Ro's stilled heart as she looked to Sasuke, jerking her chin to Anika. "Is she dead?"

Her blunt question almost caused Sasuke to pause. "Not yet."

Sakura leapt to Anika's side, duffel bag in hand and zipping it open as she moved. Ina protested that she left Ro, her hands scrambling from her own wounded abdomen to reach for his chest.

Sakura poured antiseptic at the same as starting the wrap for Anika's gaping wound. She looked up to Mira with instructions, her eyes darting over to Ina.

"Take her back to the hospital now."

"What about him?" Mira asked, looking at Ro's unconscious body.

Sakura didn't answer but focused on Anika. With no time for reluctance, Mira listened and gathered Ina to depart. When Sakura's healing chakra was expediently working on Anika's torn-apart stomach, she spared a glance to Sasuke so he'd know she was speaking to him.

"How much blood as he already lost?"

But Seiko answered for himself. "Not as bad as it looks."

That was the answer she hoped for. Still looking at Sasuke, she jerked her chin to beckon him over. "Come here."

With only one arm and it being broken, Sasuke took half a moment to help Seiko down to a seated position. When he approached her, Sakura stood and wiped her bloodied hands on her skirt.

"This will hurt," she said, but the warning was too late; her hands were fierce as they took his dislocated shoulder and popped it back into place.

"Hn."

"Sit," Sakura told him, following her own instructions as she returned to Anika's side.

Sasuke knelt beside them. With one hand of healing chakra attempting to patch Anika back together again, Sakura placed her other on Sasuke's broken bone, repairing it enough to hold weight.

"You're fast enough. Repack his gauze and get him to the hospital," she told him about Seiko, returning both her hands to the fallen med-nin.

The only one who would challenge her, Sasuke didn't move; he looked over to Ro's still form.

"He's dead," she said quietly, not looking up from her current body in need of healing. "He's been dead."

Sasuke looked at her one last time. For the first time, it seemed to occur to him that the one on their team who had seen the most death was not him. It was her.

"Go," she said, a hint of anger.

Sasuke took his bleeding comrade into his half-healed arm and wordlessly left for the hospital, wondering when Sakura returned if she'd be carrying one dead body, or two.

.

.

She knocked twice on the door but didn't wait for the response before entering. Sakura wasn't surprised to find that the ANBU stood leaning against the windowsill instead of resting in the patient bed.

"You okay?" Sakura asked, readjusting her pinned hair.

He didn't answer. "The others?"

"They're all going to be alright," Sakura assured him, but didn't smile. Ro was excluded from 'all' and both of them were keenly aware of it.

If this were anyone else, she would have insisted they sit down so she could do a full medical evaluation. But with Sasuke, she met him where he was at and gestured to his arm, asking for it.

Still masked, Sasuke turned to give her the better angle. Sakura activated her healing chakra to probe the half-healed bones in his forearm.

"You didn't have to wait for me," she told him, focused on the arm. "There's no one on the staff I don't trust with my own life, or yours."

It wasn't the first time she lectured him, and as usual, he didn't comment. After Sakura finished healing his arm, she stepped back.

"Let me see you rotate it."

He lifted it up and down, turned it to the left, then the right, and Sakura nodded, appeased.

"That's good," she said. Then, cocking her head. "Anything else I should know about?"

She didn't have to see his face to know that he hesitated.

"Let me see," she prompted.

Sasuke took a seat on the windowsill, lowered his chin to his chest, and brought his now-healed arm up to brush the hair off the base of his neck.

Sakura came behind him to take a better look. Her stomach tightened at the sight of it: a bruised laceration from strangulation.

"Oh, Sasuke," she murmured, an accidental slip.

Sakura knew from the loss of Ro and severe injuries of the others that the squad had been under attack from someone or some entity that was especially powerful, but this startled her. Who in the Hell could get this close to Sasuke? Not many shinobi would be able to, let alone succeed in injuring him.

Recovering from the surprise, Sakura went to work, guiding the neckline of his shirt down to get better access. The laceration was almost one-inch thick and left welts into his skin. Her stomach knotted further as she imagined what it would have taken to leave such a severe signature. But ANBU missions were covert, even between each other, and she couldn't ask for details.

"Have you felt light-headed? Nauseous?"

"No."

"Blurred vision? In and out of consciousness?"

"No."

"Alright," she sighed, relieved.

In case he thought in the future not to bother seeking medical attention, she thought it'd be better to make a point now.

"I'm glad you showed me. There's risk of blood clots that can travel and kill you for up to forty-eight hours after strangulation; even when there's no mark to show for it."

"Hn."

When Sakura finished healing the wound and checking for clots, her fingers lingered for a moment, a gentle touch brushing over the no-longer visible line of welts.

Then she swallowed and took a step back. "Anything else?"

He stood up, a slight nod to indicate there wasn't.

"Well I'd tell you to wait for me to get the discharge paperwork in order, but I'm sure you'd be gone before I got back."

Sasuke opened the window to leave from it, verifying her concern, and Sakura rolled her eyes. When he didn't slip out into the night at once, she wondered what he wanted, what words he was leaving unsaid. But she couldn't think of anything that might be on his mind, so she went to wash her hands.

"I won't make Friday's dinner," she told him, referring to their weekly team dinner commitment.

He sounded unconcerned. "An important date?"

Sakura looked at him with a secretive smile, but she responded with a shrug. "Something like that."

By the time she turned back around the from the sink, he was out the window and gone.

.

.

It didn't help to know that her injuries had been treated and her recovery was fast underway when she looked as if Death planned to take her. Though Sakura slept, she appeared anything but peaceful, with shadows under her closed eyes and skin grayish in pallor. She was healed, but bruises and welts still marked what could be seen on her chest, arms, and legs. She cradled into herself, as if it hurt to stretch out, and he knew from previous experience that it likely did.

Worse, he thought, was the damage done to her hands. Her delicate, healing hands were bruised and mangled. When Tsunade had caught him staring at them, she informed him the bones were healed but the inflammation on the joints would take longer to recover.

He remembered the events of the day with startling clarity thanks to his Sharingan. Instead of a traditional exam to test Sakura's qualifications as Jonin, the previous Hokage convinced Kakashi and the elders to put her through a special obstacle course. The same obstacle course the First Hokage had devised for his granddaughter with use of wood-style jutsu when she was twenty-six, Tsunade instructed Yamato to perform now that Sakura had reached the same age. Had Haruno Sakura surpassed the famous Slug Princess and Fifth Hokage? It was the question that permeated throughout their village and all the lands, and Tsunade knew how to answer it.

It was not a battle against other shinobi. It was a battle against herself. To see how hard she could push, for how long she'd persevere. The course was designed to drain a shinobi, wither them out mentally first even before maxing out the chakra reserves. Sakura began the challenge at sunrise, though it wasn't until mid-morning that Kakashi pretended to let it slip to Naruto, who then alerted Sasuke, too.

Alongside Tsunade and Kakashi, they watched Sakura from the distance of an artificial cliff Yamato constructed to provide an eagle eye view. She defended from constant landslides and hurled boulders, shattered environmental onslaughts as they neared, leapt to and fro as the earth constantly shifted beneath her feet. It would not end until Sakura ended it; and Sakura did not forfeit by choice, even though when it neared noon, her body could no longer physically keep up with her commands. They watched her stumble, fall, slip out of consciousness, and then stand back up again, too many times to count.

Naruto had hollered in protest; everyone knew how dangerous it was for a shinobi to push to the absolute limit, to be _completely_ drained of chakra. His dissenting opinion came too late, though. Sakura had not told either him or Sasuke about the special exam.

Though it countered all of his shinobi instincts to watch a teammate battle to the brink of death alone, Sasuke knew it was what she needed to do and stared, impressed at her stamina and strength, but impatient. The moment she fell for the final time, when a full two minutes painstakingly passed and she didn't get up, he grabbed Naruto's arm and took them both to her unconscious, battered frame.

Now, in the hospital, Sasuke sat in the chair beside her while Naruto flitted in and out, too nervous and excitable to remain still for long. Kakashi had stopped by once after lunch and again at dusk, but he was pulled in several other important directions. Despite his initial reservations about the replacement, Sasuke knew that if Sai hadn't been on a mission, he'd have remained at her side until she woke, too. Others, like Ino, Tenten, and Lee, came by with flowers and stayed for whatever they deemed a respectable amount of time before departing again. Sasuke stayed, though, more patient and comfortable with silence and solitude than the others.

The commotion and buzz of the day transitioned into a quieter, dim-lit night. Sasuke drifted in and out of a half-sleep as midnight approached, lulled into a meditative space by the hum of machines, soft-spoken bustle of the medical staff, and the consistent rhythm of Sakura's breathing. When he heard the rustling of sheets, it woke him fully at once and he turned to her.

She struggled with heavy lids as she murmured something incomprehensible, swollen fingers reaching and clasping around the sheets. When at last her eyes opened, her dark jade orbs slanted and serious, he knew she was in as much pain as the welts suggested. It took another moment before she seemed cognizant of her surroundings, and another before she noticed him beside her.

"S-sasuk-" but she grunted, interrupted from the pain.

Sakura focused on small movements as she turned herself onto her back.

"Tsunade said you refuse pain management medication," he said more than asked, but he didn't understand why if she knew this would be the outcome.

"Hm." She was annoyed, either at him for the reminder, or at herself for making the decision, but she stared at the ceiling and attempted to breathe.

The Fifth hadn't clarified what parts of Sakura required healing, how many bones had been fractured or broken, the severity of internal bleeding or other sorts of damage, but Sasuke's suspicion on its severity was confirmed at the sight of her. It confirmed another thing, too, though it wasn't something he'd been conscientious of: the weak, timid girl of their childhood was far, far gone.

Sasuke turned around to find the pitcher of water that the last nurse had left for them. He poured a glass, but when he turned back to her, he looked again at her hands. Sakura watched him from the peripheral; she noticed both his original thought and then his hesitation.

She shook her head, but that hurt too, and she settled back down. No, she wouldn't be able to hold the glass herself. Sasuke held the glass in his hand for a moment. It was often he found himself in-need of a second hand, and just as often he was humbled at the reminder of why he lost it. A guidepost to remind him who not to be, that he needed to be better.

So, he was careful in leaning forward and positioning the water at her lips. For a split second she was surprised, but then as soon after, grateful. She struggled but succeeded to lift her own head up, and with Sasuke's assistance, took several sips. When she settled back down, he withdrew.

"Should I get a doctor?"

Her scathing glare was far more intense than her weak words. " _I'm_ the doctor."

"Hm." Amused, Sasuke shook his head.

More awake now, Sakura kept her eyes on him. "W-were you there?"

"Aa." He wanted to ask her why she hadn't told him, but refrained.

"What was my … what was my time?"

Sasuke blinked. "Do you know Tsunade's time?"

"Four hours, fifty-three minutes."

Sasuke leaned back in his chair. She seemed in that moment more vulnerable, more powerful than even in the height of their intimate moments.

"You went for five hours and thirty-six minutes."

Her exhausted face was transformed by genuine surprise. "W-what?"

It bothered him that her shock was sincere; it was no surprise to her mentor, Kakashi, Naruto or himself that she'd surpass the Fifth's record. Had she really not believed she was capable?

"You're a Jonin now."

Regardless of the pain, Sakura grinned.

It didn't matter that she looked ragged and sickly; she was startlingly beautiful.

One of the medical staff who'd been passing by caught notice that Sakura was awake, paused mid-step, and entered the room.

"Oi, Dr. Haruno! How are you feeling?" The nurse, a petite, dark-haired woman, was swift to be at her side.

"Fine, Mara," she lied.

"Well, I doubt it," Mara said with a _tsk_. "Let me get Shizune. She wanted us to find her as soon as you were conscious."

"I might not be for long," Sakura admitted.

Mara nodded hurriedly and then rushed out of the room. Sakura hummed thoughtfully, then looked up to Sasuke. He could see that she wanted to ask him something, a gentle crease in her forehead as she deliberated on it. But then, instead, she lifted a weak hand toward the end of the bed.

"Can you bring me the chart?"

Sasuke did as she asked. She used her wrists and open palms to hold the chart up herself, dismissing his assistance, and read it thoroughly, until she seemed satisfied.

"All I need is rest," she said, the chart dropping to her chest. "I can do that at home."

He blinked. "That's not your call."

"I help run this hospital," she reminded him unnecessarily. "It is my call."

If there was one person more stubborn than Naruto, it was his other teammate. He hated to stay in the hospital after a mission just as much as the last shinobi, probably more, but he didn't expect it from Sakura.

Before he could argue, Shizune came in, excited to congratulate and celebrate Sakura. Not wanting to interfere, Sasuke wordlessly excused himself and stood outside the hall. He was distracted by the nearby orderlies and his own thoughts for awhile, until he heard the familiar tone that signified Sakura's soon-to-be-lost temper.

"Don't bother," she said, a warning. "I refuse to stay here when it isn't necessary."

"It may not be necessary for your healing, but it is for your safety," Shizune refuted. "You're too weak to fight and your chakra reserves are depleted. I can't discharge a shinobi in your condition, and you know it."

Sakura was no less adamant. "I _dare_ someone to try me. I'm leaving, Shizune."

"Damn it, Sakura, you're wors-"

"She can come home with me."

Both women looked over to see Sasuke leaning against the door frame, his one hand kept in his front pocket, almost bored. Though Sakura's eyes widened in surprise, Shizune's shoulders relaxed.

"You sure, Uchiha?" Then, turning back to Sakura with her arms crossed. "She's not a pleasant patient."

Unconcerned at the complaint, Sakura's lips remained in a thin line.

"The compound is safe," and then, intercepting Shizune's next thought, "and I'll be there."

Shizune seemed to consider it for a moment, but with the stubborn patient before her who she was sure would leave at the first opportunity, it seemed the best of limited options.

"Alright," Shizune sighed. "Let me get the discharge paperwork and then you can go."

After Shizune left, Sasuke returned to the seat he'd occupied for half the day. Sakura eyed him curiously, but with nothing on his demeanor to suggest he either looked forward to or regretted his offer, she was uncertain how to respond.

"Thank you, Sasuke," she finally said, meaning it. "Ever since the war, I've hated being here as the patient, not the practitioner."

He shrugged halfheartedly, but that was all.

.

.

It felt like climbing out of the hangover from Hell, but at least the silken sheets were cool and smooth against her skin, the down feather comforter beneath her far more luxurious than anything she owned. Gentle light filtered through upturned blinds, but she'd slept soundlessly for so long, she wasn't sure if it hinted at sunrise or sunset. As she blearily pulled herself up, she tried to focus on her surroundings; she couldn't hear, nor sense Sasuke's presence nearby.

Sakura climbed out of the bed, stiff and weakened, but less sore, enough to feel the tension release as she stood and stretched. She went straight for the adjoined washroom, and was startled to see a practical arrangement of clean towels, the most necessary toiletries, and black clothing folded in neat squares on the granite counter. Despite herself, she smiled, having learned something new about Uchiha Sasuke. He was a decent host for unexpected house guests.

After an unnecessarily long and scalding hot shower, Sakura towel dried her dark-rose hair into loose waves and slipped on the over-sized clothes. It must have been Sasuke's sleepwear; a soft black tee and drawstring pants that she tightened and rolled to keep on her waist. When she left the room, headed down a hall she'd seen but never been on the other end of, he entered at the same time, coming in from the sliding doors that led to a private yard.

"Hey," she greeted, noted the sheen of sweat and smudges of dirt on him, "Were you training?"

He nodded, looked over her attire from head to toe, and then brushed dirt off his hand as he headed for the kitchen. "You still look terrible."

Sakura frowned, but followed him. "How kind of you to point out. Fading and yellowed bruises don't look good on anyone, even you."

"Hm." An amused breath, but nothing else.

She watched him take out chilled water and pour glasses for both of them. When he offered it to her, she nodded in thanks, and searched for a clock. "What time is it, anyway?"

The hues of blood orchid red and angered oranges suggested it was evening.

"Almost eight," he said.

"In the evening?" Better to be sure.

"Aa." He drained his water, poured himself more, and then prepared to boil water in a teakettle.

Sakura took a seat behind the kitchen island, unimpressed with the fatigue and cramping of her leg muscles. "I knew I needed rest, but I can't believe I slept for a full day."

"Two," Sasuke corrected.

"W-what?"

"Two days," he said again, setting the kettle on the burner. "Your exam was on Friday morning. It's Sunday night."

Sakura blinked; with effort she could gather hazy memories of getting up two or three times for the bathroom and a glass of water, but it blurred together with no real sense of time. _Two_ _days?_

"Oh." Then, as if reminded of its unwilling participation in a fast, her stomach growled pitifully. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, blushing as she tried to quiet its protest.

At first she thought Sasuke didn't notice, but then he picked up a covered bowl, placed it on the counter, and pushed it toward her.

"What is it?" Sakura asked.

"Pork miso," he answered, and took out chopsticks for her, too.

Sakura eagerly took hold of the bowl; pork miso was her favorite, but that had to be lucky a coincidence. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

Her use of the honorific was far in few between these days. At first he noticed its absence on missions, in formal meetings, when discussing shinobi affairs. Then he noticed it was still only 'Sasuke' over sake at bars, in the midst of the chaos of their team meetings, and even after their relations on ANBU assignments. It seemed the _-kun_ only came out in rare moments of sincere gratitude and pleasure; or perhaps, forgetfulness.

After a full meal and two cups of hot, sweetened chamomile tea, Sakura felt almost as exhausted as before. She fought two consecutive yawns before the third one insisted on a release, and she stretched with it, her back cracking in satisfied crunches. "Guess I should get going now."

Sasuke looked up from his tea to study her heavy-lidded features. "You haven't fully recovered."

"Well no, but don't insult me, I think I can walk a few miles to get home."

"Hn." Sasuke took another sip of tea, and she thought that was that, until he set the cup down. "You don't have anything to prove anymore, Sakura."

She blinked. Though she tried to be teasing, her words came out quiet. "What is it that I've been trying to prove?"

As usual, he didn't answer. Sasuke offered his thoughts and opinions on occasion, but it was often vague and always fleeting.

Sakura took her dirty bowl and teacup to the sink and took initiative to wash them. The truth was, her legs were so fatigued and cramped it was difficult to stand. More than that, she wondered why Sasuke would point out she hadn't recovered unless he didn't want her to leave. Or was she reading into that? Trying to understand the subtleties of his looks and hidden meaning in his words wasn't a game she enjoyed playing anymore.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and folded her arms over her chest. When he noticed her defensive stance, he looked over.

"Do you want me to stay?" Then, her arms across her chest tightened. "If it's just for sex, I'm still too injured for that."

He almost looked as annoyed with her as he managed to with Naruto. "That's not why I invited you here."

Sakura felt the sharp singe of regret. Though she wasn't sure what he had meant exactly, she knew he was right. She was too harsh, too tough with him; acting like she had something to prove was just another old habit that hadn't yet died.

Sincere now, her arms returning to her side, she asked him, "Why did you invite me?"

He collected his teacup and the kettle and went to the sink beside her. As he washed the dishes, she remained against the counter to his side, reminding herself to be patient in case there was even the slightest chance he might answer her.

Sasuke set the washed items on the drying rack and then turned, his back resting against the counter like hers, both of them facing forward. From her peripheral, Sakura glanced up to see his calm disposition.

"You'd have done the same for me," he said eventually, a simple sentiment; the same as announcing the sky was blue, his sharingan red.

"That's true," she said, an instant smile.

Her tough veneer stripped, Sakura sighed as she reached down to her left thigh, massaged the deep tissues with enhanced strength, and then moved onto her right leg.

"To be honest, it hurts to stand and feels like I could sleep for another two days straight. If I were a patient, I'd be forcing myself to bed rest."

"Then stay."

Her lips trembled as she fought not to let her smile widen any further. Then, she remembered his absence from the master bedroom in the few moments of her interrupted weekend hibernation. "Where have you been sleeping?"

Sasuke tilted his head toward the living room on the far side of the great room. For the first time, Sakura noticed there was a folded blanket and pillow on the sofa.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "You don't have to stay out here, you know?"

Sasuke was unimpressed. "Giving me permission to sleep in my own bed?"

Sakura laughed and pulled herself back up, her legs barely the better from her massage. "You did forfeit it when you gave it to me as a bedridden patient; so yes, I am."

"Hn."

It took effort, but Sakura pushed herself off from the counter. "Thank you for dinner and tea. Good night, Sasuke."

She didn't wait for the response before she went back to his bed.

.

.

Shifting of weight beneath her, the sliding of silk across her shoulder; Sakura woke with a start from the change in environment. With only starlight peering through the slanted blinds, it took her a moment to adjust enough to see him.

Sasuke lay next to her, flat on his back and staring to the ceiling, his one arm resting over his bare chest.

She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but couldn't. Even though they'd been intimate on missions, even though now she was in his bed, she knew one thing; he wasn't hers.

Sensing he was the object of her observations, he tilted his head and looked down.

She blinked, but didn't move an inch, didn't speak. With the glint of silver light reflecting from his obsidian eye, how the illumination highlighted his angled features, the way his torso appeared like the chiseled ivory stone of an ancient statue; he looked so perfect it was almost too painful to watch.

Several moments went by, both of them patient as each of them stared. When Sakura finally spoke, it was the gentle hum of a quiet tune.

"Sasuke," she said, an announcement. "Uchiha Sasuke."

"Hn?"

Sakura readjusted her hold on the pillow beneath her head, uncharacteristically serious as she watched him. "I know who you are."

Sasuke blinked, his expression blank while he listened to her ambiguous words. But then, as sudden as the summoning of his chidori, he remembered what he'd told her on their last assassination mission. When his mask of apathy faltered, the room's darkness wasn't enough to hide it from her.

_I know who you are, I know what you've done, I know what terrible things you are capable of, I know the pain you've bore and the pain you've delivered. I know who you are._

In the quietness of the still, silent room, his breath of exhale felt as loud as a shout. "Why do you love me?"

Sakura hummed in amusement, surprising even herself with the lack of embarrassment. Perhaps being half-asleep made one as honest as drunkenness.

"Trust me," she whispered. "I've tried so hard not to."

It may have been the shadows, but he almost looked like it pained him to hear it. With another tired sigh of comfort and contentment, Sakura's lids shuttered to a close.

.

.

"Thank you, Naruto. They're beautiful."

Sakura held the bouquet up in admiration, the vibrant sunflowers complemented by feverfew daisies and eucalyptus. She was sure Hinata or Ino had assisted him, but the bright colors felt decidedly familiar to his joyful disposition and she knew he hadn't been entirely absent from the process.

"Of course," he dismissed. Then, a mischievous grin. "Once you fully recover, we'll go out and have a proper celebration."

"These are enough," she said, shaking her head. "I love them."

Before he could insist, Sakura leaned over from her spot on the sofa, wrapped an arm around his neck, and planted an affectionate kiss to the top of his head.

Sheepish, Naruto scratched his ear and grinned. "You know, when I went to the hospital first, I didn't believe it when they said you were here. Shizune had to tell me herself."

Sakura hid her blush behind the flowers and shrugged. "He just so happened to be there when I insisted on being discharged early."

"Alright then," Naruto said slowly, willing to dismiss it even as he was unable to withhold his wicked grin.

Sakura moved to lay the bouquet onto the coffee table and then readjusted the blanket around her waist. After waking up for breakfast, she'd simply moved from the bed to the couch and fallen asleep again. When Naruto arrived soon after, Sasuke excused himself and went out the back door. Naruto was probably the only hospital visitor who would make a house-call to the Uchiha Compound, but she wondered how many others would be told the circumstances of her premature departure.

When she looked back to Naruto, she waited to see if he'd joke, harass, or tease. But he didn't. For some reason, even though she knew that Naruto had figured out about his teammates' intimate encounters, he had only brought it up to Sasuke, not her.

"Naruto."

"Eh?" His eager eyes abruptly widened.

"I don't understand how you can read him as easily as an open book, but you do. How? How did you know?"

"Know what?" He said, not bothering to stop and think about it first.

Sakura just tilted her head and waited for him.

"Ooooh," he said, as if it was a conspiracy, and she tried not to pummel him too soon. "You mean uh, about the..."

He started to use hand symbols to clarify the activities he'd learned about her and Sasuke participating in, but Sakura snatched his hands, ready to pummel. Naruto yelped as he slid further down the couch, escaping her death grip and terrifying glare.

"Sorry, Sakura-chan," he said, sugary sweet. "You mean, how did I know you were sleeping together?"

She pressed her lips together and decided to be grateful he was using his vocabulary instead of pseudo sign language. "Yes, that."

Naruto started to laugh, apparently ready to tease her now that she brought the subject up first. But then he was distracted, the morning sunlight catching on the platinum band on his ring finger, and he settled himself. Sakura watched him self-regulate, half in horror and half impressed at the quiet display of maturity, when he turned back to her, his gentle smile making him look every part a future Hokage.

"Of course I knew," Naruto said simply. "I mean, it's the way he looks at you, watches you, waits for you to move. He can't keep his eyes off you."

Sakura felt his words like a cold blanket that dampened a fire. She stared at him, too surprised to be confused. "What are you talking about? I think I'd notice that, Naruto."

"You would think," Naruto agreed, shaking his head at her. "But you've been too busy making sure you aren't looking at him to notice how long he's been looking at you."

Her stomach flipped, but she would be damned to feel _butterflies_ over his words, over Sasuke. "Well, it's just physical."

"Just physical?"

"Yes," she said evenly, ignoring the challenge from his words.

"Right." Naruto was sarcastic as he gestured to the sight of her messy hair, unflattering pajamas, and comfortable position half-asleep on Sasuke's sofa after several days of being in his care. "That's what this is."

Though she started the conversation, Sakura was too stubborn to walk any thoughts further down that mental path. She threw her pillow at Naruto and changed the subject.

.

.

By Tuesday evening she was sure she would overstay her welcome in spending another night. Sakura gathered her personal items Ino had delivered to her, washed the bedding and Sasuke's clothes she borrowed, put new sheets on and made the bed, then did a walk-through of his home, ensuring she left no trace of herself behind.

He'd been a perfect host; cooking every meal, brewing tea whenever she woke, somehow anticipating her needs, and even leaving historical fiction novels out, the sort she vaguely remembered mentioning a few months prior she never had enough time to read. He'd been a perfect gentleman, too, coming into the bed and leaving it without so much as glancing at her, always several inches of space left between them. It wouldn't have bothered her, except for Naruto's words tugging at the back of her mind, insinuating there could be more to his motives than the convenience of satisfying primal needs.

Either it was only the adrenaline and exciting setting of missions that piqued his interest, or her suggestion that he only invited her over to fulfill his base desires must have kept him from taking initiative, but it had to be one or the other. The third possibility Naruto seemed to suggest was not one she would entertain. After all, Naruto might know Sasuke better than anyone, but Sakura knew better than him the rocky landscape and pitfalls of her and Sasuke's complicated relationship over the last twenty years.

Now that she had plenty of time to recuperate, Sakura had an idea of how she could put the confusion to rest.

There were few men less regimented than Sasuke; he functioned best on predictable routines and a consistent schedule. Even before her stay, she knew from over the years that the first thing he did when he got home was fill the teakettle, set it to boil, and then shower while it heated. When he returned from whatever responsibilities required his attention at the Konoha Police Force, she sat reading on the sofa while he wordlessly executed his usual routine.

Even a kunoichi of her skill wouldn't be stealthy enough to actually sneak up on him, but she did her best. Slithering out of her clothes, Sakura stacked them onto the sofa and stepped light on her toes as she went to the washroom. The shower had already been running for several minutes and she knew he'd be finished or stepping out of it soon. She interrupted it with a decisive pull of the curtain.

If he was startled, Sasuke might blink once; but in this moment, Sakura learned that when he was shocked, Sasuke blinked twice. His lids opened and closed slowly, as if weighted. The evident surprise on his ordinarily apathetic disposition immediately put to rest any tepidness she felt at approaching him bare naked.

With his lashes curled by dew droplets, ink-black hair pulled back, water cascading over each muscular ridge of his shinobi-sculpted form, he looked like an archangel from an old painting brought to life.

If archangels could be so God-damned tempting.

Sakura slid the rest of the curtain out of her way and stepped in, hot water immediately soothing her tight shoulders, drenching her long, loose hair. As if her presence demanded space, Sasuke took half a step back.

After tilting her head back to finish soaking all of her hair and frame, Sakura wiped the water free from her eyes, and looked at him, unblinking. It was up to him what happened next.

Recovering from the surprise, Sasuke's eyes wandered over her, from her composed jade-cut orbs holding more power than her yin seal, to her bare breasts, droplets collecting and falling from pert nipples, to that _fucking_ ANBU tattoo that led his sweeping gaze to the inevitable, the place between her thighs he'd revisited in his mind on more than one occasion. Sakura's exceptional strength was hosted in her muscular frame; but the lips that spoke to him and the lips that caught his attention now were the only parts of her he'd touched that were soft.

Though she'd convinced herself her motivation lay in proving his generous hospitality could be chalked up to lust, she feared the absence of adrenaline, worried it was only the chemical cocktail of hormones that enticed him.

He didn't flash-step, he wasn't even fast, as he moved forward, returning under the shower's stream and leaning over her. Sasuke took hold of her waist, a gentle hold above her hip bone. He pressed close, and her boldness was rewarded by the heated sensation of his taut erection against her bare skin. No rush of adrenaline required, Sakura thought, holding her breath.

Sasuke's grip traveled from her waist up to her rib cage. Leftover bruises still discolored her porcelain skin and he traced one of the larger marks with the back of his fingertips. He was quiet when he spoke, not unwilling. "What are you doing?"

Sakura anchored both of her hands onto his waist. Quieter than she planned, she answered. "I thought I'd thank you."

He turned his hand and lifted his fingers to cup her breast, his thumb gentle as it circled around her nipple; then, forgoing self-control, teasing it, watching it perk from his touch. Still, he was serious. "Thank me?"

Sakura raised her hold from his waist to place both of her palms on his chest.

"Yes," she said, pushing him back into the ceramic tile wall, both of them free from the shower's stream.

When Sakura bent one knee, then the other, she watched him closely enough to see the flash of recognition - of anticipation - in his mismatched eyes.

"You were a great host," she said, and because she meant it, there was no telling for either of them if it was meant to be sultry, or sincere.

Sasuke didn't care for sweets or desserts, but Sakura wondered if he did, if this is how he'd look when being tempted with a plate of them.

Sakura's hands traveled south, and she dropped her chin, both her touch and her gaze focused on the part of him that was more unfamiliar from this angle, at this proximity. Already wet from the shower, she held him hard and sure in her hands, one gradual pull from the base of his shaft to the far more sensitive head. This close, she could hear and feel him inhale from the immediate pleasure, and her lips pulled upward to smile, to prepare for him.

It was hard to call this a test, dismiss it as lust, when Sakura knew there was only one man and one motivation that'd bring her to her knees. But she ignored herself and focused only on him. Sakura wrapped her tongue around his head, slow as she tasted, deliberate when she teased him.

His protest was gravelly, weak. "Sakura."

She didn't stop. Instead, Sakura blindly found his only hand and guided it to the base of her skull, giving him permission to lead her. Then she took more of him into her throat.

Coaxing primal groans of pure pleasure from Uchiha Sasuke was more rewarding than mastering a difficult jutsu. She pulled him in deeper, reminded him with her hands that he could push himself into her, too.

From the kitchen the teakettle whistled for their attention, but neither of them acknowledged it.

.

.

Like being startled awake in the middle of a pleasant, enticing dream, he stood in the kitchen, feeling her absence as strongly as he did her presence.

Only a few moments before, she was joyful and teasing, a pink-haired vixen stepping out of his shower, wiping the back of her hand against her lips, smirking. She hastily wrapped her soaked form into a towel, for once faster than him when she left him like that, intoxicated from her oral expertise.

He found her in his kitchen, the towel barely covering her as she took the teakettle off the stove and set it aside for him. This image of her, naked and at ease in his kitchen preparing something so mundane as tea, was no less memorable than the image of her kneeling before him, her bottom lip dragging on his head when she'd finished him, depleted him.

He didn't realized he'd been massaging the base of her neck until she pulled away from him and stood up, the shower's stream now cold.

Though he had a very thorough plan in mind of what he'd be doing to her next, she moved determinedly from the stove to the stacked clothes and packed items on the sofa. She never planned to stay for more than that, it occurred to him belatedly, watching her toss on clothes and gather her things as if she had some other place to be.

Her gratitude at his hosting of her already expressed, she left with a distracted smile and promise to see him next week.

Now that she was gone, it was quiet, somehow even emptier than before her unplanned stay. Though the images of her burned into his mind, they weren't enough to convince him that he wasn't alone.

* * *

_You don't know how hard I fought to survive_

_Waking up alone when I was left to die_

_And you don't know about this life I've lived_

_All these roads I've walked, all these tears I've bled_

_._

_._

_So how can this be?_

_You're praying to me_

_There's a look in your eyes, I know just what that means_

_I can be, I can be your everything_

_._

_._

_But let me tell you something, baby_

_You love me for everything you hate me for_

* * *


	3. III.

* * *

**Adrenalize Me**

.

.

Winged eyeliner, curled lashes, subtle amethyst shades on her lids, and glossed petal-pink lips. Square-cut diamond earrings, a minimalist white gold necklace and matching bracelet, no hitai-ate. The classic little black dress; tight with thin straps, a backless V-line revealing both shoulder blades and the curve of her spine. Loosened waves pinned half back and drifting onto bare skin.

Sakura stared at herself in the mirror, knowing that Ino would be impressed so long as she wore the tall, chunky heels, too. Mulling it over, her mind wandering onto someone else who was not her date tonight, Sakura sighed.

She pulled out her well-worn black sandals, wiped the gloss from her lips, placed her hair into a casual ponytail, and shrugged on a large, comfortable pink sweater - girlish, but not feminine.

Looking at herself in the mirror one more time, she knew Ino would not be impressed. Sakura found her purse and keys, and then headed out.

.

.

She was probably never meant to know it, but time spent with a few veteran operatives deep in ANBU headquarters had given her access to a plethora of material that was highly classified.

Once she knew, a cluster of memories came to the forefront of her mind, providing clarity on half-forgotten mysteries. Last year, when he'd taken an unexpected leave of absence from the police force, Kakashi dismissing it as some urgent assignment even though she knew it wasn't with ANBU and that he hadn't even left Konoha for it. The year prior, when he came back from a mission so furious about _Kami-knew-what_ that he destroyed the north wing of the Trauma Center and terrified half her staff. He never apologized; she refused to speak to him for several weeks afterward. Years ago, when their team was first reinstated and they were consistently sent on missions together, except for the time he asked to be excused and Shino went with them instead. Not even Naruto knew what prompted him to stay behind.

"You know what week it is, don't you?" Sakura watched him carefully as she asked.

Kakashi paused with the large map in his hands, though he didn't look at her. "What's that?"

He did know. Sakura carried on as if he admitted it outright and began to protest. "But he isn't in the village. Isn't it important to him that he's here?"

After another moment of contemplation, Kakashi set the map down. "He told you?"

Sakura had the decency to appear guilty. "No. One of the older ANBU mentioned it."

The date of the Uchiha Clan Massacre was on February 6th, which meant the anniversary of his family's murder was in three days. Looking back on the years since he returned to the village, the first two weeks of February did host a variety of outlier behaviors, even for him: irritable outbursts, exceptionally sullen and silent moods, and a general absence from any and all activities.

Deciding it was too late now to worry about betraying Sasuke's trust, Kakashi sighed. "I do believe it is important to him that he is here in Konoha on the anniversary."

"But he's still in Ishigakure and they're not due back until next week," Sakura said, circling back to her original complaint.

Kakashi wasn't pleased either. "I know. I received word yesterday morning about the delay. It wasn't expected, or else I wouldn't have sent him."

Sakura frowned. She had no idea what Sasuke's plans involved to memorialize his family, but she knew now that there was only one other time hadn't been able to do it: two years ago, when he'd woken up on February 8th from a chakra depletion coma in the Trauma Center.

It was quiet between them; Kakashi guilt-ridden and Sakura forlorn. Eventually she asked him, "Do you know what he does to honor them?"

"I'm not sure," Kakashi admitted. "But I think he might light a fire at Itachi's memorial stone."

Sakura perked up. The truth of the Uchiha Clan Massacre was still a heavily guarded secret in the village, in part per Sasuke's request to honor Itachi's decision. While he was on probation, the last thing Kakashi, Naruto and her did before he left for his travels was have a nameless obsidian glass monument erected in the Uchiha Gravesite to honor Itachi.

"What makes you think that?"

"When I've gone to pay my respects to Itachi after the anniversary, I've noticed more than once a fresh pile of ash in front of the monument."

She thought about this for a few moments. It tore at her heart, but it was easy enough to imagine him lighting a fire at the monument, an unsubstantial but symbolic representation of his brother's presence. Sakura wondered for how long he would sit there to remember Itachi. Long enough to leave noticeable remains of ash.

"Thanks, Kakashi." She offered a wilted smile and stood up, making to leave his office.

When Sakura reached the door, Kakashi opted to share one more confidential detail.

"You know, he paid for the damage done to the Trauma Center."

Her hand froze on the knob, and she slowly turned back to him, biting her cheek as she considered his words. She didn't voice her realization about that event, but Kakashi must have remembered her frustration.

Because she knew the variations of her old sensei's hidden smiles, she recognized he was offering her a paternal one. "I told him the village could spare to absorb the cost, but he insisted."

Sakura took a deep breath. "Before or after I gave him the cold shoulder for a month?"

Kakashi was gentle with her. "Before."

Her shoulders dropped, but she tightened her grip on the door knob, determined. "Good night, Kaka-sama."

"Good night, Sakura."

.

.

It felt like lightning coursing through his veins and tearing beneath his skin, the kind of fury and anguish that stormed violently inside of him with no chance at being released. Chaotic, half-formed thoughts clashed within his mind as his heart raced faster than it would on even the most dangerous of missions. Rampant panic flooded his system; no matter how hard he struck, how fast he ran, he couldn't escape it.

Breaking all protocol, he disbanded from the ANBU squad at the earliest opportunity, effectively dismissing himself from reporting responsibilities and a med-evaluation. Though there was absolutely no one and nothing waiting for him, an irony that wasn't lost on him, he sped home to the Uchiha Compound. Logic attempted to remind him it was pointless to feel frantic over a meaningless date, but grief convinced him the rituals he'd become religious about on the anniversary of their deaths was the only way to be with them, to remain connected to them.

It didn't feel like they were absent; it felt like he was the absent one, his tardiness a declaration that they weren't important enough anymore. It wasn't true. Gods, it wasn't true in the slightest.

Desperate to apologize to ghosts, he went first to the Uchiha Gravesite at the outskirts of the compound. Vision blurred from an overdose of catecholamines screaming in his blood, he didn't notice that the site wasn't exactly the way he'd left it.

Almost stumbling to a halt in front of his parent's shared gravestone, he heard something unfamiliar crunch beneath his boots.

Sasuke looked down to a full bouquet of fresh black roses and crimson peonies. He blinked; the items on the ground were as foreign as an otherworldly object. Confusion immediately seeped through him and he knelt to the dirt ground, hesitant as he touched the flowers. The stems were stiff, the petals beginning to wilt. The realization belatedly came to him. Someone delivered these on the anniversary of his clan's massacre.

He abruptly turned to look at the surrounding gravestones. There weren't flowers on those of his extended family members, though he was sure he hadn't left them as clean or plucked free from weeds. He looked back at the memorial flowers in front of him, careful as his fingers skimmed the velvet skin of a rose petal. Whoever left the flowers wasn't just someone who remembered the date of the Uchiha Massacre, but also felt the need to single out his parents to honor them. Who would do that?

Heart racing harder, Sasuke noticed the tremors in his hand and let go of the flowers. Though the confusion cut into the tunnel vision of anguish, he felt no less tumultuous. In the back of his mind, he could hear Sakura describing the post-traumatic stress symptoms of abused and neglected children she worked with, but he'd been too determined to ignore the parallels in himself.

Sasuke stood and searched for his brother in the form of a tall, obsidian monument at the other end of the gravesite. No one else besides him and his original teammates knew the nameless stone was dedicated to Uchiha Itachi's commitment to Konoha and heroic intervention in the Fourth Shinobi World War. Sharingan whirling to help him see clearly across the distance, this time Sasuke immediately noticed what was out of place. There were remains of a small, circular fire and a heap of ashes to suggest it was tended to while burning for a full day and night.

For a long time he stood still and stared at the ashes from the distance. The violent rage inside of him retreated like the inevitable withdrawal of a summer's thunderstorm. Though he hadn't been there to light a fire and honor his brother's ultimate sacrifice, someone else did. The impossible weight of regret that had been burdening him for the last week wasn't removed in its entirety, but alleviated enough for him to finally be able to breathe.

Eventually, he walked over to his brother's monument and took a seat before the charred ground. Through the reflection of the obsidian glass he saw himself, and in himself he saw what he could remember of his father, mother, and brother.

The hours he spent visiting them felt like minutes, but he prepared to leave when the birds ended their songs and dusk forfeited its golden hues. Before he stood, he searched for what his sharingan had noticed earlier when he first looked for the monument.

Sasuke plucked her lost strand of pastel pink hair from the dirt beside the ashes and studied it on the palm of his hand.

Naruto had asked him why he hadn't gone to her yet. "It's simple; just spit it out, bastard. It's only the _L_ word."

He stood from his brother's monument and left the gravesite, Sakura's misplaced strand of hair between his grasp, and knew it wasn't simple, it couldn't be spat out, and it wasn't only the L word. Whatever it was, it was far more consuming than that.

.

.

He wasn't sure how a building with a blue-slatted roof, sea green glass tinted windows and orange shudders could be more intimidating than Kaguya Ōtsutsuki. After several weeks of avoiding it, and another half hour deliberating on a roof nearby, he finally forced himself to enter the hospital.

It was a busy afternoon, staff bustling in a methodical routine of triage and treatment, and he approached the front desk. One of the nurses he knew was on Sakura's surgical team recognized him; though he couldn't remember her name, she called him over with a quick wave.

"Uchiha-san," the nurse greeted. "Is everything alright?"

"Aa." He wasn't here as a patient. "I'm looking for Sakura."

"Oh," the nurse smiled, for some reason pleased to hear it. "I think someone mentioned she left early, but let me check."

Sasuke only had time to think that would be odd and likely wasn't the case, when Shizune rounded the corner. Even before the nurse could speak with her, the dark-haired woman locked in on him.

"Thought I sensed your chakra," Shizune said, clutching a stack of charts and approaching him.

For some reason, she looked like she was expecting him. She jerked her head to encourage him to follow her out of the commotion of the lobby and down the first hall meant only for staff.

"Did Kakashi-sama send you?"

Sasuke didn't get the chance to tell her no, or that he didn't know why the Hokage would have done so, when she sighed.

"Tell him it's fine, I took care of it," Shizune added. "She was as stubborn as usual, but I finally got her to listen and go _home_. You know how she is, especially when it comes to those kids."

Now Sasuke stopped walking, his confusion apparent. Shizune stopped too; she evaluated his paused step and narrowed eyes, and realized her mistake.

"Kakashi didn't send you."

"No."

Her shoulders slumped. "What are you here for?"

"Her."

He had his own questions to ask now, and though he'd had only casual interactions with Shizune, she was astute enough to predict them.

"We sent her home after an incident in the clinic," Shizune explained, her lips pursed as she looked down to the charts.

"An incident."

Shizune frowned, and he watched her visibly struggle to form the words. "Two of the older children in the crisis unit made a suicide pact. The overnight staff didn't intervene until it was too late."

Sasuke's gut instinctively constricted. The contemplation of taking one's own life wasn't unfamiliar to him, even when it involved children. For him, it had been a tempting alternative in the moments when revenge and restoration felt too far out of reach. But hearing it about others, children who didn't just idealize the end but embraced it, children he knew Sakura cared for – it chilled him to the core.

"She blames herself, and she's taking it very hard," Shizune added quietly, gently shaking her head. "She doesn't know how to love only a little; for her, it's everything or nothing."

.

.

He knocked more than once, but she didn't answer the door. It first told him to leave, that she didn't want a visitor and preferred to be alone, which is what he would have needed, too. But this was Sakura, not him. Every day she overworked herself in the messy entanglements of countless other lives, only to spend every evening grabbing dinner with a friend, visiting Kakashi's office, occasionally asking him to train with her, or if she wanted to relax, reading in the Konoha Library surrounded by like-minded company. No, she didn't prefer to be alone; Sakura thrived in the company of others, holding and sharing space with the ones she loved.

Sasuke let himself in. Her chakra signature was as familiar to him as his own, though it was far different; warm, enormous and light, the same as dense cumulus clouds on a perfect summer day. Now though, he felt its presence from the other side of the house, splintering into fragments. He followed its erratic pulse to her bedroom and found her behind the open bathroom door, hovered over the toilet, one hand hung on the handle, the other wiping her mouth from vomit. She slumped back onto the floor, back taut against the bathtub, and closed her eyes, tired in a way sleep wouldn't resolve.

"Kakashi send you?"

It seemed she asked only out of an obligation to acknowledge his arrival, so he didn't respond. Instead he went to her side and took a seat, both the porcelain of the tub and tiled floor cold to the touch. His shoulder brushed against hers, the arm she'd healed to save his life in the Valley of the End, and he stared ahead. After the plumbing settled it was silent between them, and Sakura dropped her chin, both of her hands placed into her lap. She clasped them together so tightly he wondered how she didn't accidentally break the bones in her fingers.

Then, too late, he realized that's exactly what she'd done, though not on accident.

He reached his only hand over and covered her clenched fists. Her chin tucked into her chest and she tightened her grip beneath him, but he pulled her broken digits open, frowning as he intertwined their fingers.

Like a dam broke and its river rushed free, Sakura's chest began to heave, tears spilling at once. Instead of fighting off his touch, she clung to him, her damaged fingers desperate. He tightened his hold.

When control of her strength slipped and he felt the crunch of his carpal bones, Sasuke swallowed the pain, unconcerned. Her tears, hot and torrent, landed on their broken hands. He knew if shattering bones could give her any relief, he had more of them to spare.

.

.

Even though she slept, he continued to look aimlessly at the bathroom cabinets, his sore hand rested on the nape of her neck, healed but swollen fingers trailing through her hair. Sick from adrenaline and exhausted from its aftermath, she cradled into herself on the tile floor; her head rested onto his lap, one arm draped over his thighs, the other tucked to her chest.

He listened to the sound of her breathing and felt her steadied heart rate, sensed her chakra regulate itself. Careful to not startle her, he managed to collect her petite frame into his one arm and carried her into the bed. Sakura's lids fluttered open as she watched him standing in front of her, pulling a blanket up to her shoulders.

Before she was conscious enough to think twice, her tepid words slipped out. "Will you stay?"

He paused with his hand on the blanket. She didn't know. She didn't have to be nervous while waiting for his response anymore; he'd made the decision a long time ago that if she ever asked again, he wouldn't go.

"Aa."

Sakura watched him as if she didn't believe it until he joined her in the bed. She rested on her back but turned to look at him, new tears welling in the corner of her pain-ridden eyes. He lay on his side and wordlessly slid his arm over her, his hand resting on her stomach.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"For what?" Spoken like she didn't need to be.

She took his hand into hers. Rubbing his swollen joints, Sakura answered. "For this."

As if he'd been underwater for too long, he took an earnest breath, then exhaled. Calm and honest, he told her, "I'm sorry, too."

Too devastated to banter as she ordinarily would, she traced his knuckles. "For what?"

For what, Sakura wondered. The deaths of the children who should have been safe in her care. The first time he'd left Konoha, or the second. For almost killing her to sever the bond he no longer wanted. For breaking her heart, over and over again. For what?

The recent, rare admonishment from Naruto came to her mind. _You've been too busy making sure you aren't looking at him._

For the first time in years, Sakura let herself truly look at him. What she saw in his eyes wasn't a cement wall or barren wasteland, but a strong undercurrent of empathy.

"For everything."

Surprised by his sincerity, Sakura drew his hand to her chest, holding him to her breastbone, feeling him against her heartbeat.

"It's alright," she whispered. "I already forgave you."

They were words he didn't realize he needed to hear until she spoke them. He released his hand from her hold, his fingers skimming over the center of her chest until he reached the length of her jaw, her mandible muscles clenched. He traced his thumb over the wet tear-stains on her cheek.

She rolled over so that she was face to face with him, his touch near her lips falling beneath her chin, and she took hold of his hand again.

"You're not going to leave?" Still quiet, but this time she sounded more sure while waiting for his response.

Sasuke relaxed his shoulders and opened his palm, letting her fingers fall and fit between his again.

"I'm not going to leave."

Sakura exhaled, her eyes fluttering to a close, summoned by the safety and serenity only promised through sleep.

.

.

Strong winds tossed her half-pinned hair loose from its clip and she turned into its direction, brushing willful strands behind her ears. Sakura stood outside of the hospital after an uneventful shift, watching civilians stroll by, children laughing as they darted through the streets, an occasional shinobi she didn't recognize pausing to offer her a respectful bow, recognizing her.

She was upset he didn't pop into her office window for a brief visit, but she hadn't stopped by the police station to see him unannounced either.

She was bothered he missed their last weekly team dinner to help Shikamaru with "something urgent", but she hadn't swung by his home afterward to ask him how it went.

She was furious he left on an ANBU assignment that she only knew about once Kakashi mentioned he'd be gone for six weeks, but she had never once asked him to find her and tell her before he left.

There was something morbid about hoping Konoha would be hired to help with a high-stakes assassination plot soon, but she couldn't quite get herself to wish for peace and stability, either.

"Kami, forgive me," she mumbled, kicking a pebble in front of her and starting her walk home.

.

.

After the war, the summer solstice became an excuse to celebrate life, Konoha's commemorative festival now as sacred as a holiday for the villagers. Ino swooned over the new dress she'd purchased for Sakura, its thin straps and sweetheart neckline flattering for her modest bust, a deep forest green that accentuated her porcelain skin and piercing eyes, the A-line cut formed by a silken slip reaching only mid-thigh but with eyelet lace draped over the knees.

"You look elegant," Ino complimented, adding finishing touches to a loose crowned braid for Sakura's pastel hair. "Sexy too, don't get me wrong, but elegant, the way you like it."

Sakura laughed, started to compliment Ino again on her own gorgeous navy blue ensemble, but Ino smirked. "The way he likes it, too."

Sakura's smile faltered. "Who?"

"Oh please, Forehead," Ino scolded, clicking her tongue. "I don't need to be in your head to know something's been going on between the two of you."

"Just the usual," Sakura admitted, unwilling to lie to her best friend any more than she had been during her last year in ANBU.

"What's the usual?" Ino demanded, reaching for the black eyeliner, putting it back down when Sakura shook her head with disinterest.

"Maybe something, and maybe nothing," Sakura answered honestly, shrugging.

"Well after he sees you tonight, I'm going to bet on _something._ "

For Ino's sake more than her own, Sakura laughed. "Oh, I doubt he'll even be there. You know him and parties – they're like the plague."

Ino handed Sakura three lip colors to choose from, brows wriggling with anticipation. "Guess we'll just have to see then."

.

.

"Come on man, she's been alone all night, go ask her to dance."

A small circle of Chunin shinobi stood at the edge of the crowd of dancing villagers, several drinks in yet no braver from them. Sasuke sat at the makeshift bar in the town's plaza, a glass of sake in hand with his back facing them, able to hear the entirety of their conversation. The woman at the focal point of their attention hadn't been alone; she'd been laughing, dancing, and drinking with friends all evening. But he knew that was not the sort of company that mattered for the purpose of their conversation.

"No way, the Hokage-sama is here."

"So?"

"So? She's like, his best fucking friend or something. He's at her house at least once a week, and she's always in his office after hours."

"Maybe they're screwing," one of them suggested.

"Doubt it," the other one said confidently. "He's her old sensei. Besides, she's not the type."

"I don't know about that. She went out with _Kenji_."

Whoever Kenji was, it didn't sound like he had a particularly wholesome reputation.

"Yeah, and Kenji said she paid for her own dinner."

"What? He said she went home with him."

"She did, but she didn't put out. Drank half his liquor collection and left before eleven."

All of them laughed at this Kenji's expense. "Bet that fucked with him for weeks."

"He should have known better. She's way out of his league."

Sasuke took another sip from his sake, content enough.

.

.

Loose tendrils of hair fell from her braided crown and her cheeks were rose-tinted. Sakura offered him a wicked smile, attempting to be mischievous, appearing to him like a divine seductress. She long since passed her predetermined limit of how much she planned to drink, the liquor loosening her lips, erasing her fears. Her palm was pressed to the center of his chest, challenging him.

"I would never ask you to dance with me," she told him, placing the other hand onto his shoulder, her grip tightening.

Despite himself, vivid memories of being inside of her flashed into his mind, the times she'd insisted on being on top, holding both of his shoulders, grinding into him.

There was a sentiment that went unsaid with the rest of her words and Sasuke blinked. "But?"

She leaned closer, her tight grip loosening as her lithe fingers slid down his arm and then back to her side. "But don't even think about leaving this party early without finding me to say good night."

"Hn."

The remaining outline of a smirk was still on his visage even after she turned. He watched her return to her friends, his gaze drawn to the natural swing of her hips, perfect memory recollection reminding him of the view underneath the lace dress.

.

.

Naruto's quiet and sober wife sat at the table with him, both of them uncertain whether to be impressed or alarmed at the dobe's unending amount of energy, booming laughter, and theatrical showmanship at the center of the crowd.

Drunk and comfortable in Hinata's familiar, unassuming presence, Sasuke looked at her. "Better hope your child takes more after you, and not its father."

If possible, Hinata smiled at Naruto with more adoration than when they were children. Both her hands rested on the swell of her eight-month pregnant belly. "Assuming the baby has a quarter of Naruto's energy, I've decided it's best to anticipate I'll never have a calm day again."

He watched Naruto swagger drunkenly as he hollered to an unsuspecting Shino and equally wasted Kiba, taking hold of both of them and forcing them to dance with him, stumbling through each step.

"You have calm days now?" Sasuke wondered dryly.

"No," Hinata admitted fondly, a gentle chuckle. "No, not really."

Sasuke let his gaze wander to the other side of the circle, where Sakura stood leaning against Tenten, both kunoichi tired from a full night of dancing and an overabundance of alcohol. There was a soft, whimsical smile on Sakura's face as she watched the fun and commotion before them. Even inebriated, she must have sensed someone watching her. She slowly lifted her head from the other woman's shoulder to search the surrounding crowd.

Her emerald orbs glimmered from recognition when they met his watchful gaze, and with a start, he noticed how her lips widened immediately – a smile because of him, and one just for him. In the not too distant past, her instinctual response wouldn't have been this, but a frown; in contrast, this felt like an undeserved gift. She stared back at him, unblinking and elated, her joy so evident and smile so deep it looked permanently transfixed. At least, that's the way he knew it deserved to stay.

Sasuke stood up and offered Hinata a respectful bow in farewell.

She didn't need an explanation for his early departure and nodded, too.

When he turned back to Sakura, she looked to him in anticipation, her curiosity on whether or not he'd fulfill her request apparent in hungered eyes.

Unlike Naruto, he wasn't clumsy when he was drunk. Sasuke flash-stepped to stand behind her and his hand immediately found its favorite hold beneath her hip. It could have passed for a drunken but friendly touch, until he snaked his arm around her abdomen, holding her as he pulled her into his chest.

Though she'd half-expected him to listen to her request, she was entirely startled by his abrupt and public overture.

Sasuke leaned over her shoulder and rested his chin into her for a full moment, suspending time and swirling her senses on what defined reality. As if it were only the two of them, he kissed the hollow of her neck, stealing her breath.

"Good night, Sakura." His quiet words sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could recover from her surprise, he withdrew his lips, then his arm, and stepped back. Challenge accepted, unspoken promise fulfilled, Sasuke left the summer solstice festival without another word, one hand casually tucked into his front pocket.

"Yeah, goodbye to you too, bastard," Naruto shouted after his retreating form.

Squealed murmurs and exclamations erupted from the women around her, Ino and Tenten both taking hold of her and demanding to know more, but Sakura was still stunned. Her hand unconsciously rested on the skin he'd kissed as she fought off the clamoring comments.

It was supposed to be the day the sun shone the brightest and for the longest. But the star that served as the center of her universe left too early, and he hadn't taken her with him.

.

.

This time, it didn't go as planned. The two ANBU fled from the scene after a successful assassination but a botched exit plan. After unforeseen interruptions and unplanned casualties, they escaped without being identified or followed, but not uninjured.

The red-and-white masked operative held one arm around her abdomen and the other around her comrade; he held her weakened frame, leveraging half her weight onto him as they raced through the forest. When the injured kunoichi stumbled from her step on a branch, he lifted more of her weight into him and moved faster. It wouldn't be possible to make it to their designated hideout in her condition, but it wasn't safe to stop until they crossed Kumogakure's border either.

When he brought them to a slower pace, evaluating their surroundings for potential threats and searching for the most naturally protective shape of land, she made the decision for them. Coming to a halt and releasing his supportive hold, she leapt from their next branch with what grace she had left. She sat at once, propping herself up against a particular sturdy tree trunk and ripping her gloves off.

Her comrade made a final sweep of the perimeter and then leapt to her side. Though her hands probed the gaping wound on her side, her healing chakra wasn't activated. With the mask covering her face, it was impossible to read her.

"What's the problem?" It was said tersely, even for him.

"I'm not sure what it is," she answered, tired but curious as she ripped her shirt open, revealing more of the wound.

He knelt down before her to look at it. It was the general shape of a deep wound from a blade, but the flesh was charred from a serious burn. As if stained by ink, her scorched skin was blackened. Still, it bled profusely; she halfheartedly gathered her discarded clothes to press onto the wound.

"Some sort of chemical burn," she murmured thoughtfully.

"Why aren't you healing it?"

"I tried, but I'm not sure that I can." She relaxed her shoulders, took a deep breath, and then removed her mask. "Get me a soldier pill."

He did as he was told. Sakura swallowed it with ease and began to hum, an attempt to distract from the pain and keep conscious.

"It had to be a kekkei genkai," Sasuke said, removing his mask, uncharacteristically concerned. "It almost looked like my amaterasu."

"I thought that, too, but it wasn't fire," she said, taking out her supplies from the pack on her thigh. "Something like dark lighting, instead of dark fire?"

He watched as Sakura poured half a miniature blue glass bottle onto the wound, some sort of antiseptic that caused her skin to hiss as she winced. Then, her healing chakra activated, but Sasuke soon saw what had halted her attempts from before; the black charring spread further, instead of retreating. And still, it continued to bleed.

"Tell me about your amaterasu," she instructed, relenting on the healing chakra in favor of a wad of thick gauze. She pressed it against her abdomen and looked up to him, waiting.

Sasuke wasn't sure what information he had to offer that could help, but her gaping wound and inability to heal it thus far made him consider it. "Once the fire starts, only the user can stop it."

"Well you killed this dark lightning user, so _that_ won't work," she said humorlessly. "Next."

It was instinctual to be annoyed at her dry words, but the sight of her paling and exhausted face made him refrain. "It can burn for seven days straight."

"Not helpful," she said, leaning back onto the tree. "Next."

"It can be deflected with time-space juts-"

"You aren't precise enough for that; you could accidentally take my stomach to another realm. Next."

This time, his lips thinned and a sarcastic remark was imminent; but then, the suddenness of an epiphany, and a possible solution occurred to him.

"Preta Path."

Before Sakura's confused brows could inquire which one of the paths that was and what it could do, Sasuke's rinnegan whirled to life beneath his ink-black hair.

"It absorbs chakra and ninjutsu-based attacks," he told her.

Sakura understood now, and she lifted the gauze from her wound. "So it might absorb the dark lightning chakra in the wound."

After she gave a nod of affirmation, Sasuke pressed his hand against the black, bloodied skin. Like water that separated from oil, the black burn retreated from his touch and dissolved into thin air. Gentle shocks of electricity zapped and then disappeared, too.

"Oh, thank Kami," she murmured, watching the scorched skin turn to a more familiar sight; what was raw, pink and treatable.

While Sasuke continued, Sakura placed her hand next to his and activated her healing chakra. Without the dark lighting's chakra to block her access, the wound began to heal with ease. Once finished, Sasuke withdrew his hand and rested it on his knee while he watched her finish closing the wound.

"There," she proclaimed.

He saw a faint white scarring in zigzag patterns, but otherwise, there was no sign of the almost fatal wound. When Sakura looked up at him, a satisfied smile from their successful teamwork, he felt his shoulders tighten instead of relax. It never occurred to him before that there were injuries her expert medical ninjutsu could not heal.

"What other types of wounds can't you heal?"

Sakura tilted her head. Her lips twisted to a smile more bitter than sweet as she breathed out a laugh that was not humored, but desperate and sad. She lifted a hand to him, the back of her fingers curled as she brushed them against his temple.

"Yours."

He pulled back from her touch as if it stung. Sakura's hand hovered in mid-air for a second and he watched it as if it were a shuriken. She folded it back onto her lap, not surprised nor bothered by his reaction. For a moment it was silent, Sasuke still on one knee before her, Sakura relaxed on the tree's trunk.

"You're dating Genma."

Sakura almost scoffed. "You're bringing that up now?"

But he wasn't willing to acknowledge the odd timing and just stared at her.

"Who told you that, Naruto?" When Sasuke didn't refute it, she let out a quiet laugh. "It's a wonder Naruto ever found a woman to marry him if he'd describe what I've done with Genma as _dating._ "

Apparently, he wasn't willing to do anything besides sit there like a stone statute, so Sakura decided to be generous and offer him an explanation.

"We went out to dinner one night," she said dismissively, "and he was funny enough."

"That's what you like?" Terse words, an attempt to make a dig at her.

But Sakura looked at him as if he were daft. "If that were the case, don't you think it would have been Naruto I pined over as a child, not you?"

She was amused by the thought of it, but Sasuke simply blinked.

"We went on a second 'date', according to Naruto, but I rather thought when I invited Gai, Anko, and Kakashi along too, I ensured it was not."

"Kakashi," he repeated.

"Nothing more romantic than bringing your old sensei and the Hokage to dinner."

"Hn." Sasuke reached for his mask, placed it back on, and stood up.

Sakura packed up her supplies, rolled her blood-drenched and ripped shirt up to pack too, then re-masked and stood.

Both ANBU looked to each other in their masks, neither of their expressions visible, each of them stalling even though it was unwise and unsafe to linger.

"Why did you ask about Genma?"

It was unlikely he'd answer, but with the mask guarding her, she felt an odd sense of boldness. The moment ticked by in silence, only the rustle of leaves and chirping insects nearby.

Then, cool and aloof, he asked, "Why didn't you go on a second date?"

This time, it was her who wouldn't answer. Her laugh was lost in the wind when she leapt to the branches, racing through the forest to reach the original place meant to keep them safe.

.

.

Reinvigorated from bathing in the natural warm springs, Sakura wrapped new bindings over her chest and tugged on black leggings, then returned to their campsite, ringing out her wet dark-rose hair over her bare shoulder.

Sasuke had washed, but not indulged as she had. She took the seat across from him at the fire pit and noticed his fresh clothing, wet hair almost dried, and an emptied plate with crumbs to the side. He wordlessly pushed another plate of grilled fish and crisped vegetables in her direction.

"Thank you," Sakura grinned, taking the chopsticks from his finished plate. "And thank you for earlier, too. It's a good thing you were assigned this mission, not Kurenai."

She realized her mistake too late. Sasuke leaned back some, an almost unnoticeable crease in his forehead hinting at confusion. "Kurenai?"

"Ah," Sakura finished her bite. "When you opened your big mouth up about us, Kakashi wanted to be sure I knew you could be replaced."

In that moment, Sakura was certain that Uchiha Sasuke had not once ever been called out for having 'a big mouth', let alone considered replaceable. He was visibly agitated, and though the back of her mind reminded her it was cruel, provoking Sasuke's frustration was one of the only ways to evoke emotion from him. She took another bite of fish, amused even while he looked at her with an unimpressed scowl.

"I didn't tell him."

"You said something to Naruto in front of him," she reminded him. "Which is about the same as telling him."

He turned to look off into the distance, though she was certain it was not because something else took his attention.

Sakura continued to eat, grateful for something else besides a soldier pill to fill her stomach. "You could have lied, you know?"

She meant it as a joke, but even as he stared on at something else, she saw the slight shake of his head. "Not to Naruto."

Before she could tease about their so-called telepathic connection, he turned back to her, still serious. "Not about you."

The chopsticks quivered in her grasp, but then she laughed. "I'm not that special."

He looked at her, but she hid by collecting her next bite of food. "I suppose _quite_ controversial, though."

Sasuke's temper snapped. "What do you want, Sakura?"

She didn't miss a beat. "This dinner."

Angered, he asked again. "What do you want from me?"

She looked up to him finally, but her widened orbs were still teasing, and she pointed her chopsticks downward. She tapped them twice to her plate. "I just told you."

If looks could kill, Sakura mused. There were not many shinobi who were faster than him; in one second he was there seated before her, and by the next he was gone. From her peripheral, she could see the back of his frame almost ten yards off in the distance, and then he disappeared into the forest clearing.

Her appetite effectively squashed, Sakura sighed and let go of her plate with a clatter.

.

.

By the time he returned, it was well-past sundown and the full moon cast the only light in a silvery glow across the landscape. Sakura stood near the outskirts of their campsite, studious and disciplined in her strength-enhanced shuriken target practice. Each time she threw, it ripped clean through the line of trees in its path. Hearing Sasuke return, his attention focused on where their gear was stacked and not on her, she shifted her throwing arm and sent a shuriken sailing in his direction.

Like it was utterly effortless, he pulled a kunai out from seemingly thin air and deflected her surprise assault. Metal clanged, the shuriken took a dismal fall to the ground, and he continued to walk toward the neglected fire pit.

Sakura turned and sent another impossibly fast shuriken in his direction, but she swore he didn't even lift his eyes as his lightning-fast hand jerked, kunai deflecting her shuriken once again. Before the shuriken hit the dirt, she sent another one toward him, aiming for his forehead. _Clang!_

One shuriken, then the other landed in the soft dirt. She raised her arm and prepared to throw another one, but before her fingers could wrap around the cool metal, he flash-stepped before her and snatched her wrist. Her latest shuriken fell lamely to the ground.

Sakura wrapped her free hand around his wrist and pulled it down hard, glaring up at him with a severity he'd only seen her share with enemies.

"You _know_ what I want," she told him, a quiet but lethal whisper. "So don't you dare ask me that when it isn't what you want, too."

Her strong hold bruised the bones of his wrist and he forced his hand free. "Since when do you understand what I want?"

His blunt words were a slap, but Sakura had long since built herself a steel-enforced wall to protect from whatever blow he might deliver. Her eyes narrowed as she took a step back, fingers itching for another shuriken. The star-shaped holes in the nearby trees tempted her to send one tearing through his gut.

"For as long as you've been delusional enough to think getting what you want will do you _any_ godforsaken good," she said, too spiteful to care if it was a blow beneath the belt.

Too fast for her to evade, Sasuke was on her before she could blink, wrapping one arm around her and tossing her hard to the ground. As soon as he pinned her to the dirt, she forced him off, the same ease as he'd deflected her shuriken. She wound her thighs tight against his hips and pressed the flat of her forearm across his throat, threatening to crush his windpipe. Unconcerned, Sasuke reached for the nape of her neck, fingers winding through her hair as he pulled her closer to him. Their lips were almost close enough to touch.

"You are the only thing I've wanted that would."

Sakura hovered over him, neck taut from how tight he pulled, lips parting in confusion. " _W-what?_ "

Her frame was loosened from surprise and it gave him the opening he needed. Sasuke wound one leg around hers and kept his grip on her hair as he flipped them again. He dropped his weight onto her waist and forced her head up to look at him.

"You heard me," he said, still angered.

Sakura attempted to breathe, too startled to care that her trembling lips bumped against his own. She studied him, as if the longer and steadier she shared into his mismatched eyes, she might be able to discern if he was teasing, or truthful. When he offered no remorse, and no additional clarification, Sakura bit her lip.

"But I want you, all of you," she told him, at last unearthing her dormant truth. Quiet from predestined heartbreak, she frowned. "You'll never give me that."

Sasuke pulled tighter; if she'd been any weaker she might have yelped, but it brought their lips so close they now rested on each other. The only pain she felt was the familiar fear of unrequited love.

"You don't understand," he said, his breath hot. "You already have all I have left."

Her silent whimper was the same as the first time he'd been inside of her; it was one of a thousand things he'd discovered about her since his return to Konoha that burrowed its way into the core of what he wanted, what he needed.

Sakura grabbed each side of him, her fingers clenching around the fabric of his shirt. She hadn't worked so hard to draw the battle lines within her mind, how badly she wanted him versus what she deserved from him, to surrender now.

"I hate when you leave for extended trips and don't tell me or take me with you."

It wasn't spoken as a question, but he knew it was a demand.

"Then I won't leave."

Sakura's grip tightened. "I hate that even though we're together on missions, when we go back to the village we barely see each other."

"Then come home with me."

Sakura lifted her chin, heart racing. "I hate going on dates with men I don't have a single interest in."

This time, he tightened his grip, too. " _You_ hate it?"

She almost laughed, but her words were not just a confession, not only a complaint.

Sasuke dropped his forehead to rest onto hers, letting go of her hair, cradling her neck instead. "Then be with me."

Though they'd been playful before, Sakura felt abruptly overwhelmed at the reality of the present moment. She hurriedly wondered if she'd been hearing him right, feared how she might have misunderstood him.

It occurred to her then that maybe the issue in the last several years hadn't been her inability to read him, but her unwillingness to ask him what the pages said.

Hesitant from vulnerability, she swallowed. "Only you?"

Sasuke didn't blink. "Only me."

Sakura felt the weight of his forehead like a reassuring touch. "And… you want to only be with me?"

He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. "Only you."

"Oh…" Sakura murmured, startled. " _Oh_."

It was impossible to see, but it felt like he was smiling against her lips and Sakura's whole frame loosened, letting go of a decade's worth of defenses. For what must have been sixty seconds but felt like an eternity, she bathed in this sudden understanding, this new world of being wanted by whom she'd always wanted.

"Alright," she breathed. "There's one more thing."

Sasuke lifted his forehead from hers, watching and waiting for her last demand.

"I hate that you're not making love to me right now," she said, her word softer than she'd intended.

"Hn." With a smirk that would tempt a saint, he lowered his lips to her ear, a rough whisper. "Then take your clothes off."

Overwhelmed with a pleasure far more fulfilling than their adrenalized encounters, Sakura laughed and ran her fingers through his hair, taking his face between both of her hands so she could look at him. Touching his angled features slowly, holding him without fear he'd slip away.

Now he was hers.

Sasuke's lips finally took hold of hers, a kiss so tender and exploring, she wondered if this was their first one. Each kiss was slower than the last, both of them anchored only in the present. Sakura parted her lips and he accepted her invitation slowly, patient and deliberate as he proved with his touch what he could not convey with words.

As a girl, she'd shouted and begged to show him how she felt. Now though, Sakura learned there were other mediums to transcribe her love; her tongue dancing alongside his lead, stealing his bottom lip with a tug and sweetened kiss, wandering hands to map every inch of him.

He lowered himself to rest on his side, pulling Sakura into him. His only hand now free to touch her, he held her face like a gem, deepened their kiss like a promise. He trailed this thumb over her cheekbone, wanting more of her but too busy being grateful for what he had.

Now she was his.

.

.

"No," Sakura said, tapping his hand. "That's far too much."

Sasuke tossed her a glare and continued to pour the soy sauce into the pan. "You're the expert cook now?"

She narrowed her eyes and reached for the sauce again. "You said you liked my cooking."

"I said you cooked fine," he corrected, winning the tug-of-war. "I'm better."

Sakura turned her attention to the rice instead of the fish, pressing her hips hard into his side to get the last word in. "You think you're better at everything."

"Not 'think'," he said, putting the sauce down and then grabbing the spoon to stir. "'Know.'"

Sakura placed the cover back on the rice with one hand and swiftly slipped the other to the front of his pants, reaching and finding his unsuspecting member between his legs. "I'm better at taking care of some things than you are," she whispered.

"Hn." Sasuke stepped out of her provocative touch and left the spoon over the pan, listening to her quiet laughter with feigned patience. When she leaned over to take the spoon, he grabbed the bottom of her ass and squeezed.

Sakura almost yelped aloud but quieted herself at the last chance, the start of a blush as she turned back to the others seated at his nearby dining room table. Naruto held his newborn baby to his chest, cerulean eyes widened in horror. Sai sat blinking, cradling one hand under his chin as if studying some sort of mystery. Even Kakashi looked on in surprise, both of his brows lifted toward the ceiling.

" _Lord-Kami-and-every-Daimyo-of-the-Lands_ ," Naruto said like a swear word. "I knew they'd get together one day, but I never thought… I never thought…"

Freed from the confines of traditional gender roles and sentiments, Sai helped him out. "You never thought they'd be so cute."

"No," Naruto agreed. "No, I didn't."

"We can hear you," Sakura said pointedly, threatening him with the spoon.

"Yeah and we can _see_ you," Naruto countered with a disgusted frown.

Sakura flushed various shades of pink, but Sasuke was unbothered, taking the spoon out of her hand and tending to her overcooked vegetables.

"Then don't look, dobe."

"You're ten feet away from me," Naruto stammered in protest.

Kakashi chuckled, but Sai was still thoughtful. "Now that we're on the subject of your physical interactions, how –"

"We are _not_ on that subject," Sakura interrupted.

"– do you fuck her with just one arm?" Sai continued obliviously.

Sakura was too stunned at his blunt words to launch an assault, but her blood began to boil. Behind her, Sasuke flicked off each of the burners on the stove. "Strength. Balance."

He answered as though he was describing the generic skills of a shinobi, but then he turned around to face their friends, tucking one hand into his pocket, the unrivaled arrogance of an Uchiha. "Some creative effort."

"Oh gods, shut up," Naruto groaned, placing a hand dramatically over little Boruto's ears. "I don't want my child to hear this."

Kakashi looked over to Sakura, who appeared as though she might die from embarrassment. When she reluctantly acknowledged him, she saw the smile hidden beneath his mask was not only a knowing one, but a proud one. Against her better judgment, her mortification dissipated.

"Don't worry, Boruto," she began, facetious. "One day when you come of age, your Uncle Sasuke will give you some pointers on the things your father doesn't know much about."

It was Naruto's turn to flush scarlet red and the room erupted with laughter, even a rare sound of mirth escaping from Sasuke. He passed a brief touch over Sakura's shoulder and then returned to the food to prepare their plates.

.

.

He always woke first, the soft hues of dawn greeting him, and Sakura always woke next, Sasuke's gentle touches greeting her.

She lay flat on her stomach with both arms above her, holding the pillow tight, lids closed and lips murmuring incoherent pleas. Sasuke's one arm pinned the base of her neck as he finished trailing open-mouthed kisses down the nodules of her spine and curve of her ass, his nose prompting her thighs to open further for him.

"What're you doing," she murmured weakly, her words a protest her legs didn't hear.

He lowered himself, his hand sliding down her bare skin to grab hold of the top of her thigh, fingers wrapped around her tattoo. She felt more than heard his amused breath on her folds.

"Thanking you."

Sasuke continued to kiss, but then his tongue was deliberate and sweeping inside of her. She held the pillow tighter, an inhibited moan. Distracted further when his travelling fingers caressed inside of her, Sakura almost forgot to ask.

"F-for what?"

Sasuke was too busy to answer and Sakura was too blissful to notice. She was lost in the acute movements of his now-familiar fingers, the persistent pattern he worked over her most sensitive nub, the nerves exploding in electric circuits. In the back of her mind, she felt the last part of her timid reservations about the previous night disappear.

When he'd held her naked in his lap, her legs straddling him and ready for him to thrust inside of her, but instead he guided her own hand between her legs. She felt frozen at first, too shy to even consider it, but he moved her fingers for her, easing her tension. He dipped into her neck, breath hot and tongue bruising until he whispered. "Show me."

Though his sharingan didn't spin, he watched her touch herself no less intently. At first she insisted he keep his fingers alongside hers, but then he'd asked her again, nipping her neck and withdrawing his hand. Hooded eyes unwilling to blink, as if it felt as good to him as it did to her, he watched her show him exactly how she wanted it and what she needed.

Apparently, he'd been paying _very_ close attention. Sakura felt him now with not just the sensational satisfaction of a new touch, but the existential pleasure of Sasuke's knowing one. Approaching an earthquake, and then shattering throughout her climax, Sakura muffled her moans into the pillow.

Sasuke retreated after one last lingering kiss on the inside of her thigh. She lifted a lethargic arm behind her to reach for him and he let her pull her fingers through his hair.

Breathless, she asked him. "What were you thanking me for?"

"Aa." Sasuke sounded like he forgot, too.

His left shoulder leveraged to the side of her, Sasuke took his iron-hard member in hand and positioned himself between her thighs. Though he knew perfectly well that he'd left her ready for him, he teased his head at her entrance, sliding himself up and down her wetness. She pleaded for him, her strength accidentally tearing the pillow apart.

Sasuke pulled himself inside of her, both of them inhaling from the paradoxical pleasure of relief and expectation. He held her hip as he thrust inside of her, feeling her arch back and forth with him, no longer needing him to guide the pace each of them felt best. Sasuke lowered himself to find his favorite crook in her neck, kissed her first, teeth nipping at her next.

Hovering over her ear, he finally answered, husky and low, while pushing in deeper, bottoming out. "For being a good host."

Sakura almost wilted from overwhelming pleasure, but she stretched her neck at an angle he could meet her lips on to kiss him briefly. Then, she lifted onto her knees, inviting him further into her, trembling from his thrusts that shook her to the core.

She'd chosen the life of a kunoichi over a domesticated one for a reason, but Sakura knew she'd gladly be a _hostess_ to him for the rest of her life.

.

.

Only ten pages left in the novel she was reading, Sakura didn't look up from her spot on his sofa when he arrived home. Unbothered at her lack of greeting, Sasuke passed a fleeting touch over her down-turned cheek with the back of his hand. She belatedly wrapped her fingers over his with a gentle squeeze until he moved onto the kitchen.

Sasuke filled the teakettle, set it on the stove to boil, and went to take a shower. By the time he came out, Sakura's finished book was closed on the sofa and she was standing in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea. Hearing his arrival, she turned to him with a warm smile.

"Here," she said, handing him his tea.

Sasuke took it and thanked her, but he put the teacup down on the counter and pulled her wrist instead. Once she was close enough, he bent down to kiss her. Sweetened chai tea still on her lips, she tasted like cinnamon, honey and home.

Sakura ordinarily would inquire about his day and he would ask the same about hers, but today she had been off work and apparently thoughtful. There was a pensive seriousness in her jade-cut orbs and she nibbled on her lip, an old habit.

"What is it?" Sasuke asked as he let go of her wrist.

She seemed surprised but not unhappy that he noticed something was on her mind. Sakura slid a hand under his shirt, finding a comfortable hold on the familiar ridges of his abdomen.

"When Kakashi first let it slip that he knew about us, he couldn't remember what was being talked about, but whatever it was, that's how Naruto figured out we were together."

Sasuke's subtle crease in his forehead told her that _he_ remembered. She tilted her head, fingers roaming up to his chest. "What was it?"

Sakura assumed it was something insignificant, but Sasuke paused for a full moment.

"It was after he told us Hinata was pregnant."

She didn't think before she spoke. "But that doesn't have anything to do with us."

Sasuke just looked at her, something akin to amusement as his lips sought to turn upward.

Sakura thought she'd never have her own telepathic connection to him, assumed she would always need to ask him what the pages of him read. But she looked at him now and her eyes widened in understanding. Talk of having children reminded him of his own plans for restoring the Uchiha Clan. Plans of restoring the Uchiha Clan made him think of her. He'd known even back then he wanted to be with her, marry her, and have children with her? _That_ was what Naruto had picked up on; finding out they were already sleeping together was just the inevitable result thereafter.

"O-oh," Sakura murmured, at a loss of words. "Y-you mean…"

"Hn." If Sasuke would have smiled it was lost on is lips when he kissed her forehead.

Sakura melted from his touch. Her hold on his chest steadied her until she came back to her senses. Sasuke almost stepped from her motionless frame, but Sakura wrapped her arms around his neck, admiring him, indulging in the closeness. The thoughts on her mind sent a mild panic through her system, but it was the adrenaline coursing through her blood that gave her the courage.

"I love you, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke's arm wrapped around her waist dropped lower, and holding her bottom, he lifted her onto the counter and stepped between her legs. Words that had been in his thoughts but spoken only through gestures, sex, and lesser sentiments finally left him.

"I love you, too, Sakura."

He pressed his forehead to hers and Sakura's arms loosened to drape over his neck. In the gentle and tender entanglements that ensued, their tea went cold.

.

.

* * *

_We have to live before we die_

_We were born to live before we die_

_Don't you wanna live before you die?_

_Let me see you live before you die_

_._

_._

_Right here, right now_

_Adrenalize me_

_Right here, right now_

_Adrenalize me_

_Right here, right now_

_Adrenalize me._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading (:

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://helena-thessaloniki.tumblr.com/) (: 
> 
> Your thoughts and constructive feedback are always appreciated. xo


End file.
